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“THAD WAS STANDING DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE OPENING, WHEN 
A HUGE WILDCAT SPRANG OUT OF THE CAVE STRAIGHT AT 
HIM.” 



THE 


BOY DUCK HUNTERS 


BY 


FRANK E. KELLOGG 


EllustrateH bg. 

J. W. KENNEDY 

And with reproductions of Audubon Plates 





14292 


Library of Conoreas 

Two Copies Received 

JUL 3 19C0 

CopyngM (niUy 

Wjy 3 , 

Stcoio COPY. 

Orlive««tf t« 

OROt« OIVtSlON, 

JUL 18 1900 

Copyright^ igoo 

By Dana Estes & Company 

65331 



Colonial prcgg : 
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds 
Boston, Mass., U.S.A. 



Co. 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER 

I. 

The First Hunt .... 





PAGE 

1 

II. 

Trapping . . . . * . 





19 

III. 

Thad’s First Gun 





30 

IV. 

Trying the New Gun. 





47 

V. 

Shooting Blue- wing Teal 





66 

VI. 

First Instructions 





83 

VII. 

Thad’s First Goose 





102 

VIII. 

Shooting Mallards in the Woods 





118 

IX. 

Shooting in the Wind 





141 

X. 

Hornet’s Nest Wadding . 





151 

XI. 

A Duck Convention . 





168 

XII. 

Two Types of Men in the Woods 





184 

XIII. 

Over Decoys .... 





200 

XIV. 

Prairie-chickens 





217 

XV. 

The Cave 





230 

XVI. 

Over Decoys with Breech - loaders 




255 




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

“ Thad was standing directly in front of the opening, 

WHEN A HUGE WILDCAT SPRANG OUT OF THE CAVE 
STRAIGHT AT HIM ” . . . . . . Frontispiece 

“The eagle lifted its great body in the air, and 

STARTED TO AGAIN ATTACK DiCK ” 1 4 

“ A ROAR FOLLOWED THE BLOW, AND THE BOY WAS KICKED 

FOUR FEET INTO SOME HAZEL BRUSH” .... 37 

Blue Jays 58 

“ Aiming at the centre of the flock, he pulled the 

TRIGGER ” 72 

Black -WINGED Hawk *. . . 98 

White - FRONTED Goose . . . ' 114 

Dick Rescues Bruno 13 1 

Dusky Duck . . . 140 

The Boys and the Hornets 157 

Wood- DUCK 174 

Dick’s Buffle Duck . . • . . . . . .197 

“And they became shrewd, patient, tireless anglers”. 219 

Ruffed Grouse 226 

“ After looking around carefully, they took a few 

STEPS BACK INTO THE CAVE ” 237 

Red -WINGED Blackbirds 260 



THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE FIRST HUNT. 

T~\ICK, let’s go hunting all by ourselves. What do you 

LJ say .? ” 

Dick Kingston looked up from his work on a small wagon, 
one of the wheels of which refused to “track,” and gazed at 
his brother in amazement. 

“ Why, Thad Kingston, are you crazy ? You know mamma 
wouldn’t let us go unless papa was here to go with us. 
Goodness knows I wish she would, though,” he added, gaz- 
ing wistfully over the Mississippi bottoms at the circling 
wild fowl. 

“ How do you know she wouldn’t ? Let’s ask her, any- 
how,” said Thad, eagerly. “I believe she will. You know 
papa said the other day that I was getting about old enough 
to handle a gun. Here I am past twelve and never hunted 
alone. It is ridiculous,” and Thad straightened up with an 
injured and important look. 

“ All right, come on,” cried Dick, and away they raced for 
the house. 

“ Mamma, may we go hunting ? ” they both shouted in one 


2 


THE BOY DUCK tiUNTERS. 


breath, bursting in the door where Mrs. Kingston sat sewing 
in the cosy sitting room overlooking the Mississippi and 
adjoining bottoms. 

Their mother looked up quickly from her work at the two 
boys, as they stood confronting her with sparkling eyes and 
flushed cheeks. 

“ Why, children, the idea of you little chaps going hunting 
without papa. What can you be thinking of .J* You might 
shoot younselves.” 

“ No, we won’t, either,” said Thad, stoutly. I know how to 
handle a gun, ’cause papa said so, and I’ll be just as careful as 
I can be and not point it toward Dick once. Do let us go, 
there’s a good mamma,” he added, coaxingly. 

“ You little wheedlers, what will I do with you ? ” said Mrs. 
Kingston, laughing. 

“ Oh, Thad, come here quick and see this big flock,” Dick 
cried from the window. 

Thad ran to his brother’s side just in time to catch a last 
glimpse of a large flock of mallards as they sailed down a 
gentle incline into a rice pond. 

He stood at the window a moment feasting his eyes upon 
the entrancing sight of the circling wild fowl, his boyish blood 
aflame with thoughts of what he might do if among them ; 
then, walking over to where his mother sat, said, in a frank, 
manly way : 

‘‘ Mamma, if you will let Dick and me go, I will promise to 
be very careful with the gun, and we will come back before 
sundown.” 

Kissing him affectionately, his mother said : ‘‘ Well, Thad, I 
have a mind to let you go, although I am afraid papa would 
not approve of it if he were here. Be very careful and don’t 
let Dick carry the gun ; he isn’t big enough,” she said, 


THE FIRST HUNT. 


3 


glancing over to the window where the younger boy stood 
watching the ducks. 

“Mamma Kingston, I wish to inform you that I am ten 
years of age and perfectly able to take care of myself and 
Thad also, if necessary,” said Dick, with mock gravity, giving 
his mother a hug by way of emphasis. 

“ There, don’t pull my hair all down ; get ready and go so 
you can get home early,” laughed his mother. “It is after 
one o’clock now. I will help you to get ready.” 

The boys needed no second invitation, and in a twinkling 
Thad was in the bedroom and came out with his father’s 
muzzle-loader in one hand, and shot-belt and powder-flask in 
the other. 

“ Here is fine shot on one side for snipe and coarse shot on 
the other for ducks,” he announced, feeling the pellets through 
the soft brown leather with the air of an old hunter. 

“ Oh, shucks, you couldn’t hit a jack-snipe in a week unless 
yon saw one sitting,” said Dick, disdainfully. 

“ I couldn’t, eh } I will just show you before we come back 
what I can do.” 

Little Dick dreamed how Thad would show what he could 
do before they returned. 

“Mamma, do you know where papa keeps the wads.?” 
inquired Thad, looking in vain for the useful articles. 

“They are in the upper right-hand bureau drawer,” was 
the answer from another room. 

“ Yes, here they are,” said Dick, after turning the contents 
of the drawer bottom side up, boy-like. 

Here Mrs. Kingston entered the room with a couple of half- 
worn but serviceable coats of a neutral colour, which the boys 
donned ; then exchanging their shoes for short, stout rubber 
boots, and stuffing the wads into their coat pockets, were ready. 


4 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ I wish papa was here to go with you,” said Mrs. King- 
ston, as she watched the preparations, half-regretfully. 

Mr. Kingston was travelling salesman for a large farm 
machinery house, and most of his time was necessarily spent 
upon the road, but every spare moment found him at home 
with his family on the bluff overlooking the Mississippi River 
and adjoining bottom lands, where he was either afield with 
dog and gun or helping Thad and Dick in some boyish 
project. 

He was an ardent sportsman, and wild fowl and jack-snipe 
had always been his especial delight. 

“Call Jack and come on,” cried Thad. 

Dick went to the door and whistled. 

In an instant Jack came bounding toward them, when, 
catching sight of the gun in Thad’s hands, he nearly went 
wild with joy. 

How he did dance and caper around them, wagging his 
tail, sniffing at the gun, uttering short barks and otherwise 
giving vent to his delight. 

He was a cross from an English setter and a water spaniel, 
an excellent retriever, and possessed very much more than 
the ordinary canine intelligence. As Mr. Kingston often 
remarked, “He knew more than some men.” 

“Guess ril load with snipe-shot first,” said Thad. “We 
may run across some jack-snipe before we get to the ducks.” 

“ Be sure and load right, now,” said Dick, anxiously, watch- 
ing with keen interest Thad pour in the powder. 

“Oh, I know how. I’ve watched papa load,” said Thad, 
confidently, as he pushed down the powder wads. 

“ You want to ram the powder good and hard. You know 
Tom Lacy said at school that he heard a man say once to 
ram the. powder till the ramrod bounced out of the barrel,” 


THE FIRST HUNT. 5 

said Dick, shifting about restlessly, with one eye toward the 
bottoms. 

Thad rammed away vigorously a few moments, and said, 
as he withdrew the ramrod, “ There, I know that is rammed 
enough.” 

“ But you haven’t made the ramrod bounce out yet,” said 
Dick, in alarm. 

“ I don’t care if I haven’t, papa don’t load that way,” said 
Thad, resolutely, as he poured in the shot. 

Thad’s remark spiked Dick’s guns effectually, as both boys 
believed that papa did everything right ; so Dick held his 
peace. 

“ Come on now,” said Thad, as he capped the gun and 
marched off. 

Making their way out on the bottoms they were soon 
skirting the margin of a low, marshy swale, when “scaipe, 
scaipe,” a jack-snipe sprang up almost under Thad’s feet, 
and went dodging, twisting, and corkscrewing away over the 
meadow. 

His flight was so sudden and swift that Thad forgot to 
shoot until he was out of range. 

Inwardly resolving to be ready next time, Thad held the 
gun cocked in front of him. But a few steps had been 
traversed when “ scaipe, scaipe,” went two more within easy 
range. 

Had there been but one, it would have probably heard the 
report of the gun. As it was, each looked more tempting 
than the other, and the consequences were, before Thad could 
decide at which one to shoot, they were both far away. 

“ What’s the matter, Thad, are you asleep } ” cried Dick. 

“No, I’m not asleep, but I can’t hit chain lightning when it 
is in six different places at once,” returned Thad, tartly. 


6 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


At that moment another snipe flapped from the swale and 
took a straightaway course from the boys. 

Thad’s gun sprang to his shoulder instantly, and a sharp 
report followed a second later. 

It was hardly more than a snap-shot, but luckily the charge 
of shot struck the bird, and it dropped dead. 

‘‘ Go fetch. Jack.” 

In an instant Jack was standing over the dead snipe, and, 
picking it up tenderly, he soon laid it at the boys’ feet. 

Well, you can hit a jack-snipe, can’t you ? ” said Dick, in 
great glee, picking up the snipe and looking at it admiringly. 

Of course I can if they will only give me a show, instead 
of trying to turn back somersaults the way those other fellows 
did,” replied Thad, proceeding to reload. 

A few steps farther and up went another snipe. Bang 
went the gun, but Thad found that snap-shots did not 
always count, for the fleet-winged bird kept on its course 
unharmed. 

Let’s go after ducks and let the snipe go,” said Dick. 

“ I’m agreed, ducks are bigger and must be easier to hit. 
Where will we go ” 

“ I think we had best try the little round pond that papa 
goes to so much,” Dick answered. 

“ All right ; look, there goes a flock in there now.” 

The pond spoken of was a small one of a few acres in 
extent, fringed with wild rice, and a favourite feeding-ground 
for mallards and teal. 

As the boys drew near the pond, they crouched low and 
stole along softly, to get as near as possible to the feeding 
birds. As they threaded their way through the grasses and 
rushes, a chorus of frightened quacks greeted their ears, and 
the ducks sprang up in all directions. The nearest ones were 


THE FIRST HUNT. 


7 


within easy range, but the great number bewildered Thad, and 
before he could single out a bird to shoot at they were well 
out of range. He finally fired out of sheer desperation, but 
they were too far away for the charge to be effective, had his 
aim been correct. 

Don’t get rattled, Thad. My, see the ducks, ain’t there 
lots of ’em t ” 

“ Get down, here comes a flock,” replied Thad, as half a 
dozen mallards came sailing in from the bottoms. Making a 
half circle of the pond, they wheeled, came straight for the 
boys, and when within twenty-five yards checked their flight, 
and, extending their yellow feet, hovered over the water a 
moment before alighting. 

Thad could stand the strain no longer, and, throwing the 
gun to his face, pointed it at the bunch of fluttering wings. 

Unluckily, a wayward rush lay across the gun-barrels on a 
line with the sight, and before he could brush it aside the 
ducks had caught sight of him and sprang several feet into 
the air, so that the charge of shot that followed an instant 
later, passed under them. 

“ Keep down, here comes more.” 

Thad almost unconsciously stopped trying to reload, and 
crouched down in the rushes just as a dozen mallards fluttered 
above the water a few yafds away. 

“ Oh, dear, look at that mess of ducks, and the gun isn’t 
loaded,” said Thad, despairingly, as he gazed helplessly at the 
big bunch of handsome birds, so near and yet so far. 

‘^That’s too bad, ain’t it 'i just our luck,” said Dick, in dis- 
gust. 

The ducks caught a glimpse of the boys, and sprang away 
out of range. 

I’ll just load one barrel at a time, then maybe I can be 


8 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


ready in time for the next flock,” said Thad, as a happy 
thought struck him. , 

‘‘Any way to keep a load in the gun,” said Dick, im- 
patiently. 

Thad loaded as rapidly as possible, and had just placed the 
cap upon the nipple when four mallards came drifting back 
from the bottoms anxious to resume their interrupted dinner. 

They evidently had a rice claim a few yards from the 
boys, as they stopped there and hovered over the water a 
moment as though they wished to be sure it was their 
claim. 

It seemed to Thad, as he looked along, the barrel at the 
closely bunched ducks, that he must kill all of them, and 
with an inward prayer for good luck this time, he pressed the 
trigger. 

But alas for human hopes ! 

The clear, tiny crack of the cap echoed over' the pond. 
Only this and nothing more. 

The frightened ducks rapidly climbed out of danger, and 
vanished, probably congratulating themselves upon their nar- 
row escape. 

Thad looked at Dick. 

Dick looked at Thad. 

“What in the world is the matter.? why didn’t the gun 
go off .? ” asked the former. 

“I don’t know what is the matter with the old gun. I 
loaded it right, I am sure,” replied Thad, greatly perplexed. 

“ Which barrel did you load .? ” 

“The right, and, by George ! I capped the left,” said Thad, 
in disgust, as the truth dawned upon him. 

“There is another chance gone,” said Dick, mournfully. 

“ I won’t make that mistake again. I’ll load both barrels 


r 


THE FIRST HUNT 9 

after this if it takes a week,” said Thad, decisively, as he 
poured out the powder. 

“ Keep still, here comes two,” said Dick, in a whisper, ten 
minutes later as a pair of mallards came across the bottoms 
and in another instant were hovering with bowed wings over 
the water. 

As Thad looked along the sights, he saw the big green 
head and chestnut breast of the drake. Pressing the trigger, 
a sharp report followed, and the drake, struck fairly with the 
charge, fell with a splash in the water. 

‘‘Go get it. Jack.” 

Jack bounded forward, and with a few vigorous strokes 
had the duck in his mouth. 

“ Gee whiz, ain’t he a big one } ” said Dick, joyfully, as Jack, 
his big brown eyes glistening with delight, laid the mallard 
at their feet, and gave himself a few vigorous shakes to 
extract the moisture from his shaggy hide. 

The boys had not long to wait for another shot. 

The original flock, routed out upon their arrival, began 
returning in pairs, bunches, and singles. 

Thad pointed the gun at a pair in front of him, but just as 
he was about to pull the trigger a bunch crossed between 
them. 

They looked so much more tempting that he let the first 
pair go and swung the gun toward the last flock. Just then 
four more dropped into the water within fifty feet of him. 

The sight of these was irresistible, and again the direction 
of the gun was changed to bear upon the ducks sitting on 
the water. 

Their watchful eyes discovered the young hunters before 
Thad had time to catch aim, and with quacks of affright they 
sprang into the air. 


10 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Making a hasty snap-shot, he got the usual result of young 
or inexperienced hunters. The ducks were still rising, and 
the charge of shot passed below them. 

“ What do you suppose is the reason you don’t hit ’em .? ” 
inquired Dick, tying a bow-knot in a couple of rushes. 

“It must be because I don’t shoot where they are,” 
replied Thad, who was just enough vexed by his failure to 
kill ducks to make a tart reply. 

“ Oh, is that the reason } I thought it was because you 
capped the wrong barrel,” said Dick, sarcastically. 

The wild fowl came dropping in from other lakes, and soon 
were circling, recrossing, dropping into the water, again 
springing into the air, to escape from some imaginary foe, 
until poor Thad was hopelessly bewildered. 

“ Oh, look here ; shoot at these ; no, shoot at those over 
there just lighting ; hold on a minute, wait for this flock to 
light,” and Dick squirmed about like a young eel. 

“Keep still, wait a moment, till this flock gets close 
enough. Goodness ! isn’t there lots of them } There they go. 
Why don’t you shoot at some of them They are so thick you 
can’t miss.” 

Thad would pick out some particularly tempting shot, but 
before he could shoot others would come between. The gun 
would be pointed in their direction, and another flock would 
cross and disturb his aim, until the gun was wabbling in half 
a dozen directions. When he did shoot, it was between two 
ducks, owing to the uncertainty of his mind. 

Thad did not know he was having the same experience 
older hunters pass through in their boyhood days, if they ever 
have the good fortune to be in the midst of a heavy flight of 
wild fowl, before their nerves have steadied down and grown 
accustomed to almost anything. The flight ceased before 


THE FIRST HUNT. 


II 


Thad obtained another shot, and for some time no ducks came 
near the pond. 

The boys soon lapsed into the listless, lazy mood that is 
the cause of so much apparent ill luck among unsophisticated 
wild fowl shooters, and, instead of being constantly on the 
alert with eyes and ears, they were gazing abstractedly at the 
purple haze veiling the horizon in the far distance. 

Something caused Dick to look over his shoulder, and 
there, but little over a gun-shot away, and bearing down 
upon them like a troop of cavalry, came a fine flock of 
mallards. 

Instantly Dick’s right arm, headed by his index finger, shot 
out toward the oncoming fowl, and, in a shrill, keen voice, he 
almost shrieked : Oh, look a’here coming ! Get down ! Get 
down quick ! ” 

His impromptu yell was supplemented by a frantic dive 
into the rushes, where he lay, still as a mouse, waiting 
expectantly to hear the report of the gun. 

Of course the wary ducks acknowledged the kindly warn- 
ing instantly, and, mounting to a higher altitude, swept 
gracefully away across the bottoms to more congenial feeding- 
grounds. 

Dick remained perfectly motionless for what seemed to him 
an eternity of time, his youthful fancy conjuring up the num- 
ber of falling, splashing ducks that would drop from the flock 
when Thad fired. Four, he decided, would be a fair number if 
Thad only fired one barrel, and six, if he fired both. Then he 
fell to wondering why he didn’t hear the report of the gun. 

Finally he whispered, cautiously : 

“ Ain’t they near enough } ” 

“ Ain’t what near enough } ” asked Thad, who was stand- 
ing upright looking at the scenery. 


2 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“That flock of ducks,” replied Dick, looking up in surprise. 

“ I don’t see any ducks,” said Thad, casually. 

This remark caused Dick to straighten up like a bent 
sapling. 

“ Where did they go to ” he asked, in amazement. 

“ Do you mean the flock you scared the life out of when 
you tumbled into the rushes 

“ I didn’t scare them. I just said, ‘ See the ducks,’ and 
squatted down.” 

“ I should say you did. The yell you let out of you drove 
all the ducks off the bottoms ; even the muskrats have left the 
pond, and nearly broke their necks running across the bot- 
toms, trying to get away. You must have mashed down a 
quarter of an acre of rushes when you performed that famous 
‘squat’ act. Even Jack here has been laughing at the way 
you tore around. Haven’t you. Jack.-*” 

Jack tapped the ground lightly two or three times with his 
tail, in reply, and quietly opened one brown eye, without lift- 
ing his nose from his paws, and gazed up at the boys as 
though trying to repress a smile. 

“ Oh, pshaw, I don’t believe I made much noise,’^ said 
Dick, laughing at Thad’s extravagant remarks, in spite of the 
chagrin he felt. 

“You made racket enough to send that flock clear across 
the Mississippi,” said Thad, impressively, looking vainly for 
more ducks. 

They seemed to have deserted the pond, but finally a flock 
dropped in, and alighted near the upper end, out of gun-shot. 

The boys waited awhile, and then Thad said, “ Dick, 
suppose you go above them and see if they won’t fly down 
this way. Maybe I will get a shot.” 

“ All right,” replied Dick, and away he went. 


THE FIRST HUNT 


13 


Thad squatted down in the rushes, so the ducks would not 
see him when they arose, Jack standing patiently beside him. 

They waited some time, and Thad was mentally wonder- 
ing why Dick did not frighten the ducks, when he heard 
a shrill scream from the direction he had gone. 

Thad knew from the tone that it was a scream of terror, 
and that Dick was in danger. 

Ducks were forgotten in an instant, and, springing to his 
feet, he looked eagerly in the direction from whence the scream 
had come. 

The rushes were too high for him to see, and he at once 
dashed out on the open meadow, followed by Jack. 

Just as the edge of the rushes was reached, another cry 
from Dick came to his ears, and, looking toward him, he saw 
a sight that chilled his young blood. 

A monstrous eagle was just visible above the rushes, trying 
to lift something in its talons. 

Thad took in the situation at a glance. 

An eagle had pounced upon Dick in the rushes, and was 
doing its best to carry him away. 

Many children of Thad’s age would have fled and left the 
boy to his fate, but Thad was made of sterner stuff. 

Without hesitating an instant he ran toward his brother, 
crying, “Fight him, Dick, we are coming.” 

The noble dog seemed to know his young master was in 
danger, and bounded toward him with hoarse growls, his hair 
bristling all over. 

Ere Thad was half-way there. Jack reached the scene of 
conflict and sprang at the huge bird. 

The eagle, releasing its hold on Dick, struck the dog a 
terrific blow with one of its mighty wings. 

With a yelp of pain Jack dropped to the ground, half 


14 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Stunned, and before he could return to the charge the strong, 
sharp beak darted out with the force of a pick, and struck 
Jack squarely in the right eye. Quick as a flash the blow 
was repeated on the other eye, and poor Jack lay writhing 
on the ground with both eyes torn from their sockets. 

The eagle lifted its great body in the air, and started to 
again attack Dick, when Thad came running up, yelling like 
an Indian to attract the bird’s attention from his victim. 

At sight of Thad and the gun, the eagle seemed to think 
that discretion was the better part of valour, and slowly 
and sullenly winged its way across the meadow. 

Shoot him, Thad ; he has killed Jack,” sobbed Dick, who 
was nearly paralysed with fright. 

Levelling his gun at the slowly rising bird, Thad blazed 
away. 

His nerves were badly unstrung from running and shouting, 
but, fortunately, part of the charge struck the eagle, breaking 
one of its wings, and it dropped to the ground. 

In an instant it was on its feet and came walking toward 
the boys, its eyes glaring vengeance. 

But Thad’s fighting blood was up also. He walked straight 
toward his adversary until not more than ten yards separated 
them, and . Dick feared he was going to fight it hand to 
hand ; but Thad had no such intention. The terrible bird had 
done damage enough without giving it another chance, and 
levelling his gun at the eagle’s head, he fired. 

The charge from the strong shooting gun struck the bird 
fairly, and the great head with its glaring eyes was nearly torn 
from the body. 

When he saw the bird was dead, and could do no further 
damage, Thad hastened back to where Dick was crying over 
Jack. 


THE FIRST HUNT 


15 


Are you hurt much, Dick ? ” he asked, anxiously. 

I don’t know, I guess not,” sobbed Dick, who was 
thinking more of Jack’s injuries than of his own. 

“ Let’s look,” suggested Thad. 

The boy’s clothing was badly torn, and upon both sides, 
where the eagle had sunk its sharp talons, several crimson 
marks were plainly visible ; otherwise, excepting the shock 
to his nerves, Dick was unhurt. 

Thad then turned his attention to Jack. The poor faithful 
fellow was just breathing his last. 

The powerful beak had mercifully penetrated the brain, and 
instead of living, a sightless wreck. Jack’s sufferings were soon 
over. 

The boys stood with overflowing eyes until Jack was dead. 

No word was spoken, speech was a mockery, in the face of 
their great grief. 

As Dick watched the unfortunate animal’s death-struggles, 
and thought how it was all for his sake, he laid his head 
upon Thad’s shoulder, and sobbed as though his heart would 
break. 

At length, when it was all over, Thad said, in a low voice, 
as he wiped the moisture from his eyes, “ Come, we must go 
home and tell mamma. ” 

“ And leave Jack here } ” said Dick, his tears breaking out 
afresh. 

“ We will come back and get him,” replied Thad, a great 
sob rising in his throat. 

A sorrowful, downcast pair of boys wended their way over 
the Mississippi bottoms that pleasant, hazy October afternoon. 

Circling wild fowl and darting jack-snipe were alike un- 
heeded, and the big mallard carried by Dick afforded little 
solace for the loss of Jack. 


i6 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


As the boys ascended the bluff and stepped upon the porch 
of their home, the door opened, and Mr. Kingston came out 
to meet them. 

Giving each a hearty grip of the hand, he said, jokingly : 

“Well, boys, I see you have become full-fledged duck 
hunters while I have been away.” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Thad, with a faint attempt at a smile. 

Mr. Kingston noticed their look of deep dejection, and said : 

“ What is the matter, boys. You look as if you had been to 
a funeral.” 

“We have,” replied Thad, in a voice so mournful and 
pathetic that his father opened his eyes and said, quickly : 

“ What is that } What do you mean ? Whose funeral ? 
Where is Jack } ” 

“Oh, papa. Jack is dead. An eagle killed him,” replied 
Dick, his eyes filling with tears. 

“ An eagle killed Jack ! How did that happen ? ” said Mr. 
Kingston, in astonishment, turning to Thad. 

“We were in the rushes at the little round pond,” said 
Thad, his lip twitching, “ and Dick went above to scare up 
some ducks. After awhile I heard him scream, and I ran 
out on the bottoms and saw a big eagle trying to lift him out 
of the rushes and fly away with him. 

“Jack seemed to know what the matter was, and we both 
ran as fast as we could to help Dick ; but Jack got there first 
and jumped at the eagle, and the eagle let go of Dick and 
went at Jack, and struck him in both eyes with its beak, 
and tore his eyes out ; then I came up and shot the eagle, and 
Jack only lived a few minutes.” 

Mrs. Kingston had come out upon the porch, and stood 
listening to Thad’s recital of their adventure. Womanlike, 
she was crying softly, and when he had concluded she said ; 



“THE EAGLE LIFTED ITS GREAT BODY IN THE AIR, AND STARTED 

TO AGAIN ATTACK DICK,” 





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THE FIRST HUNT. 


17 


Dear me ! and I am to blame for all this. I should not 
have let the boys go. Come here, Dick, and let me see 
how badly you are hurt.” 

Don’t cry, mamma,” said Dick, putting his chubby arm 
around his mother, and trying to look cheerful, “ Jack did not 
suffer long, and I am all right, except a few scratches.” 

“You and Jack behaved splendidly in the emergency, 
Thad, and I am proud of you both. If only poor Jack had 
escaped ; but it might have been much worse. We can spare 
Jack, faithful and true as he was, better than we can Dick. 
Such a thing will not happen again in a lifetime, perhaps, as 
eagles are rarely known to attack human beings. This one 
evidently saw Dick in the rushes, while soaring overheard, 
and took him for some small animal.” 

^‘Did you ever know before of eagles attacking boys.?” 
asked Thad. 

“Yes, I have read of it, but was always slow to believe it. 
Now, however, we know it to be true. You and Dick go in 
the house and change your clothes, and I will drive down and 
get Jack’s body. We must give him decent burial.” 

Mr. Kingston hitched up “ Uncle John,” the family horse, 
to the light wagon, and drove down the bluff on his mournful 
quest. In half an hour he returned, and poor Jack, or all 
that was left of him, was tenderly laid in the back yard. 

The following day a grave was dug beneath the spreading 
branches of a big apple-tree, where Jack was wont to lie on 
the long, pleasant summer days. A neat pine coffin was 
made, and the body of the faithful dog consigned to its last 
resting-place. 

To the little band of mourners, it mattered not that Jack 
was only a dog. To them, especially under the circum- 
stances, their four-footed friend was the embodiment of all 


i8 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


that was faithful and loving, and many times, when the drift- 
ing snow piled high above the humble grave, Dick sat by the 
window overlooking the bottoms, watching the whirling snow- 
flakes and listening to the tempest’s roar, thinking of his 
brown-eyed Jack and the pleasant hours they had spent 
together. 

For Jack had come to him when a little bright-eyed, mis- 
chief-loving puppy, — in the days when he used to carry off 
and hide Dick’s shoes, hat, and every thing else he could lift, 
and then look unconcernedly innocent when reproached with 
the theft. 

These memories came thronging vividly back to Dick, now 
that his playmate was dead, and caused him to feel the loss 
all the more keenly. ^ 


CHAPTER II. 


TRAPPING. 

T he boys did not ask to go shooting again that fall. 

Had their first attempt not met with such disastrous 
consequences, both would have besieged their mother daily 
for permission to go again, but the tragic death of their four- 
footed playmate threw a wet blanket over their youthful 
enthusiasm for a time, and they were content to watch the 
flight of wild fowl go down the Mississippi, on whistling wing, 
from their home on the bluff. 

Almost before they knew it, the fall, with its storms and 
sunshine, had glided by. Sharp frosts and biting north winds 
filled the Mississippi with drifting ice, which a cold snap 
solidified, and by December the big river was locked fast 
in the cold embrace of winter. 

One bright, crisp morning in December the boys were 
nosing about a part of the woodshed that was used as a recep- 
tacle for odds and ends, looking for some mislaid article, 
when Dick, reaching down in an old barrel, came up with an 
old rusty steel trap and chain. 

What is that ” he asked. 

“ Don’t you know what that is, goosey } It’s a steel trap,” 
replied Thad, taking it from Dick’s hand. 

How would I know ? I never saw one before,” said Dick, 
diving down in the barrel again. 

** Here’s another.” 


19 


20 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


See how many there are,” said Thad. 

Dick kept making journeys to the bottom of the barrel, 
until he had fished up six traps. 

“I wonder whose they are, and how they came here,” 
mused Thad. “ Go and see if mamma knows anything about 
them.” 

Dick soon returned with the information that their mother 
knew nothing about them. 

‘‘ Are these the kind of traps they catch muskrats with, do 
you suppose } ” inquired Dick. 

‘‘Yes, they must be,” said Thad. 

“Are you strong enough to set one.?” asked Dick, trying 
in vain to bend the spring with his hand. 

“’Course I am, but that ain’t the way,” replied Thad, con- 
temptuously, taking the trap. “Here is the way.” And he 
set the trap on the floor, and, placing his heel on the spring, 
bent it down until the jaws dropped apart. Then placing his 
finger under the jaw, he lifted the pan until the trigger caught 
in the notch. 

“ Who showed you how .? ” asked Dick, admiringly. 

“ Oh, shucks. I’ve known how a long time,” replied Thad, 
indifferently. 

“Yes, you have, an awful long time,” remarked Dick, sar- 
castically. 

“I have, too,” replied Thad, indignantly. “Will Daly 
showed me how last fall once when I was over to his house.” 

“ That is a great while. Nearly two months ” — with quiet 
sarcasm. 

“ And he told me how they set traps for muskrats, too,” 
said Thad, hurrying over that part of his education, now that 
Dick had cornered him as to the time. 

“ How did he know .? ” asked Dick. 


TRAFFING. 


21 


‘‘ An old trapper told him over a year ago. There is a 
slide on every house, and you set the trap on the slide. 
They’re easy ; anybody can catch them.” 

‘‘Ain’t there muskrats in those houses down on the bot- 
toms } ” inquired Dick. 

“ Of course, muskrats in every house.” 

“ Why couldn’t we catch some, now we have the traps ? ” 
asked Dick. 

Thad looked at Dick a moment and then slapped his leg, 
joyously. 

“ Of course we can. Like a simpleton, I never thought 
of it. Your head is long as a flour barrel, Dick. I know 
how to set the traps, and we’ll catch a lot of muskrats and 
make some money.” And Thad chattered away, sorting over 
the traps with a radiant face. 

“Maybe we can make money enough to buy me a gun,” 
said Dick, eagerly, entering into the idea of the sport with 
keen ardour. 

“ When had we better set them } ” said Thad. 

“To-day is Friday, and we can get out of school early. 
Why not set them this afternoon .? ” said Dick, who was im- 
patient to be making money toward buying a gun. 

“And papa will be home to-morrow, and maybe he can 
show us how to skin them. Just what we’ll do,” nodded 
Thad, approvingly 

“Come on, its school-time.” 

The boys were home by half-past three, and lost no time 
in gathering up their new-found traps, and starting for the 
bottoms. 

Thad stopped at the house long enough to inform his 
mother what they were going to do, and they were off down 
the bluff. 


22 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“We want six sticks, one for each trap,” remarked Thad, 
taking out his jack-knife. 

“ What are the sticks for } ” asked Dick. 

“To keep the muskrats from carrying off the traps, of 
course,” said Thad, cutting off a small limb. 

“ What do the muskrats want to carry off the traps for .? 
what do they want of them .? ” inquired Dick, innocently. 

“ Well, if you ain’t the thickest-headed boy I ever saw. If 
you would stop and think a minute, you wouldn’t ask such a 
fool question,” replied Thad, in disgust, trimming off the 
branches as he walked along. 

“ When the muskrat gets caught by the leg, it hurts, and 
he tries to get away, and if the trap ain’t fastened he carries 
it off.” 

“Oh, I see. I didn’t think about it hurting,” observed 
Dick. 

“Where are you going to set them } ” he asked, a moment 
later, as they trudged along. 

“ It don’t make any difference where. This end of this 
long lake, right here, that papa calls Willow Lake, is the 
nearest,” replied Thad, heading for that sheet of water. 

“What if there ain’t any slides on the houses, what will 
you do then } ” inquired Dick, as they stepped on the ice at the 
north end, within a short distance of several big rat houses. 

This was a poser for Thad, as the only information he 
possessed about trapping muskrats was to set the traps on 
the slides. So he made no reply, but inwardly hoped they 
would find the slides as he had been told. 

The ground was bare of snow, and they walked out a few 
yards to a little clearing in the rushes, where stood a big 
muskrat house, forcibly reminding one of a pioneer block- 
house in a clearing in the forest. 


TRAPPING. 


23 


Thad was worried somewhat as he approached the big rat 
house. 

What if there should be no slide ; or if there was, it should 
be so small and insignificant that he wouldn’t know where to 
set the trap } 

He had been telling Dick, in a rather important way, how 
they set traps on the ‘‘slides,” when he didn’t really know 
whether a well-ordered muskrat house had such an article of 
furniture. 

If it didn’t, he knew very well Dick would give him a big 
laugh. 

Therefore, when he saw a smooth road, about six inches 
wide, running from the top of the house to the bottom, he 
instinctively knew it was the wished-for slide, and felt 
tickled enough to yell outright and jump a ten-rail fence. 

But he choked off his jubilant feelings, and merely re- 
marked, in an offhand, casual way, as he threw down the 
traps : 

“There is the slide.” 

“ Do the muskrats slide down there just for fun } ” inquired 
Dick, as Thad was setting the trap. 

“Yep, I suppose so,” replied Thad, absently, as he sur- 
veyed the smooth, frozen path with a critical eye. 

“ I guess I’ll put the trap about half-way down the slide,” 
he finally observed, suiting the action to the word. 

“Now you see we put this sharpened stick through the 
ring in the end of the chain, and push it into the house,” he 
continued, in a businesslike tone. 

But he had no hatchet to drive with, and he discovered 
that it was not all pie, pushing a stick into a frozen rat house. 

Dick, who had been dancing about, keeping warm, sud- 
denly cried, “Wait a minute,” and, dashing out on the bot- 


24 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


toms, returned with a stone half the size of his head, with 
which Thad succeeded in driving the stick in the frozen 
rushes. 

“ I wonder if the muskrats have a piece of board, or slide 
down on their bellies,” remarked Dick, as he watched Thad 
set the next trap. 

Thad laughed. “Belly, of course, where would they get 
boards } ” 

“ A muskrat has dog-gone queer ideas of fun, to come out 
of a warm house in the middle of winter, and slide down 
frozen mud, on his belly,” said Dick, in a disgusted voice, as 
he slapped his chilled fingers on his leg. 

“ Oh, they’re warm-blooded ; cold don’t bother them,” said 
Thad. 

“ Say, Thad, how do you suppose the muskrats get out 
from under the ice, to get on the house and slide } ” asked 
Dick, after they had set the traps and were starting home. 

“ I don’t know. I hadn’t thought anything about it,” con- 
fessed Thad, scratching his head in a puzzled way. 

“They must come out some way,” continued Dick, “for 
you can see where they have used the slides.” 

“ Maybe there is a trap-door in the house somewhere,” 
suggested Thad. 

“ Or maybe they come out along the bank some place,” 
said Dick. 

“ Well, we’ll probably have a rat in every trap in the morn- 
ing, then we can tell something about it,” said Thad, hope- 
fully. 

Next morning the boys were possessed with a feverish 
impatience to visit the traps. 

Their father had come home during the night, and after 
breakfast Thad remarked : 


TRAPPING. 25 

“ Whose old steel traps are those out in the wood-house, 
papa ? ” 

“ If there are any traps around, they must be mine. I 
used to trap a good bit, for muskrat and mink, when I was 
a boy, but I haven’t seen one of my old traps for years. I 
supposed they were all lost long ago. How many did you 
find } ” said Mr. Kingston. 

Six. And we set every one of ’em for muskrats last 
evening,” interposed Dick, eagerly, his eyes dancing. 

“ Indeed. Who taught you how to set traps for musk- 
rats } ” said Mr. Kingston, in surprise. 

“ Oh, we found out, didn’t we, Thad } ” said Dick, wisely, 
winking at his brother. 

‘‘Of course we did,” assented Thad; “and, if you have 
trapped, you can show us how to skin them, can’t you } ” 

“ Certainly. I shall be glad to show you ; that is, of 
course, provided you have caught any.” 

“ Oh, we’ll have some muskrats all right,” said Dick, 
confidently. 

“ One in each trap, I figure,” said Thad, calmly. 

“ Shall I go down to the traps with you } ” asked Mr. 
Kingston. 

“Just the thing; come on right now,” said Dick, impatiently. 

“ Have you got the hatchet, Thad } ” asked Mr. Kingston, 
as they were starting. 

“ No, sir ; it is in the wood-house. I’ll get it,” said Thad, 
going after the desired article. 

“ Did you have much trouble in cutting into the houses ^ ” 
asked Mr. Kingston, as they were crossing the bottoms. 

The boys looked at each other blankly. 

“We didn’t cut into the houses,” ventured Thad, finally, 
with a vague feeling that all was not right. 


26 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


You didn’t ! ” said his father, in astonishment ; where in 
the world did you set the traps ? ” 

On the slides,” replied Thad, faintly, with a sinking 
heart. 

Kingston turned away his head, and choked down a laugh. 

“ I am afraid it won’t take long to skin your muskrats, 
boys,” he remarked, as soon as he could control his voice. 

At the first house the stick lay on the ice, but the trap 
was gone. 

‘‘We caught a muskrat, and it has carried off the trap,” 
cried Dick, excitedly. 

His father smiled, and said, dryly : 

“ A two-legged rat, I am afraid, Dick.” 

At each house it was the same. Every trap was missing. 

The traps had been set quite closely together, and at one 
of the houses the stick had been left in, and upon it was 
pinned a small slip of coarse paper, that caught Kingston’s eye. 

Something was scrawled upon it with a lead -pencil, 
Kingston unpinned the paper, and glanced at the writing. 
A smile spread over his face, and his eyes fairly shone with 
suppressed laughter, as he thrust the paper in his pocket, and 
turned to Thad and Dick. 

“Your traps have been stolen, boys. This bit of paper 
explains it. Let us go back to the house, where it is warm 
and comfortable, and we can talk the matter over.” 

“ What does the paper say, papa } ” inquired Dick, whose 
boy curiosity was aroused. 

“I couldn’t make it all out, the writing was so bad, and 
the spelling so poor,” replied Mr. Kingston, evasively. “ Wait 
until we get to the house, where it is warm, then we can 
figure it out. But first, I want to show you how to catch 
muskrats when it is frozen. See here.” 


TRAPPING. 


27 


And Kingston took the hatchet, and dexterously cut a hole 
in the side of a muskrat house, big enough to thrust his 
arm in. 

‘‘Feel in here, Thad, and see how cosy it is,” he said, as 
he withdrew his arm, after exploring the interior of the house. 

“ Don’t be afraid,” as he noticed Thad hesitate slightly. 
“There is nothing in there. The muskrats have all gone 
over to the neighbours to tell them about this attack on their 
house.” 

“ Gee ! this is a jolly warm house, Dick. Here’s a bed as 
soft as we have,” said Thad, exploring around with his arm. 
“ Ouch ! that water is cold, though. Guess I wouldn’t like 
to sleep in there. If Dick kicked me out of bed, I would 
roll in the water,” he added, laughing, as his hand came in 
contact with the icy waters of the run leading from the house. 

His father laughed. 

“That is their door, where they go out to visit the neigh- 
bours, and gossip these short winter days.” 

“ Do they set the traps in the houses } ” asked Dick. 

“ Yes ; right in where the rats live. The proper way is to 
set the trap near the door, where Thad put his hand. Then 
when the rat is caught, it jumps down in the water to escape, 
and gets drowned. If it doesn’t, the chances are it may twist 
off its leg, and leave its foot in the trap to tell the story. 

“ I have caught many a three-legged rat, with the stump 
of his fourth leg healed over and covered with fur. After 
setting the trap, they pack this stuff all back in the hole 
as firmly as possible, so it will not freeze inside,” said Mr. 
Kingston, suiting the action to the word. “ There, that is 
all right. Now, let’s go home.” 

“ Isn’t there any possible way for the muskrats to get out 
on the ice } ” asked Dick, as they were leaving the lake. 


28 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ No ; they are as securely locked under the ice as though 
in an iron chest.” 

The boys did considerable thinking on the way home. 

Kingston walked ahead, and two or three times Dick 
thought he could see his father’s big shoulders shaking with 
suppressed merriment. 

After the trio had thawed out a little around the comfort- 
able sitting-room fire, Dick blurted out : 

“ Say, papa, we made awful fools of ourselves, didn’t we ? 
Let’s see what that paper says.” 

“That’s so. I had almost forgotten your note,” said his 
father, his eyes twinkling. 

After studying the contents of it a moment, he said : 

“ It is so dim and greasy, I will make a copy of it, then 
you can read it.” 

He copied the document with a pencil, and, handing it to 
Thad with a broad grin, said : 

“Read it aloud to Dick.” 

Thad took the slip of paper, and, after glancing at it a 
moment, mounted a chair, cleared his throat, and, making his 
best bow, read gravely : 

“ To Mr. Dick Kingston: — enny body thats fule enuf to set traps 
on the out sid uv a mushrat hous in the midel uv the wintur hadent 
ortu hav traps next time set em under a hen its safer 

“ a frend ” 

Thad didn’t have time to get gracefully off the chair 
before Dick had him by the leg. 

“ No, you don’t. Lay that trapping fizzle on to me, will 
you.? I’ll show you.” And they rolled over on the floor, 
laughing, yelling, and squirming like a couple of cats. 

After the boys had laughed themselves out, and assumed 


TRA PPING. 


29 


an upright position, as well-behaved boys should, Mr. Kingston 
straightened his face, and said : 

Well, boys, what do you think about trapping ” 

‘^Hold on, papa,” cried Dick, ‘‘please don’t say ‘Well, 
boys;’ say ‘Well, Thad.’ He is the head trapper, or head 
simpleton, whichever you call it. If you want any informa- 
tion on setting traps, ask him.” 

“Well, Thad,” resumed his father, “who told you how to 
set traps ? ” 

“ Will Daly told me last fall. He said they set them on 
the slides.” 

“ So they do in the fall before it freezes up, only the 
traps are set at the foot of the slide, under water, but after 
it freezes the conditions are changed. Then the only way 
to fix the traps so the rats can get into them is by cutting 
a hole into the house.” 

“ Yes, sir. I see how it is now ; I ought to have had sense 
enough to see it before,” replied Thad. 

“I thought it was awful queer if muskrats were fools 
enough to come out on the ice this cold ^ weather and slide 
down that frozen mud, but smarty Kingston here claimed 
they would sooner do it than eat raisin pie (raisin pie was 
Dick’s favourite). Call me thick-headed, will you, ‘Thad 
Kingston, the great muskrat trapper of the Mississippi ’ ? ” 

“ Don’t you spend any time worrying about Thad Kingston. 
He will come out on top,” was Thad’s rejoinder. 

“You musn’t be too sure about that. You tried to make 
me believe that the muskrats came out on top in the winter, 
and it cost us six traps to find out they didn’t,” retorted Dick, 
and Thad subsided. 


CHAPTER III. 


THAD S FIRST GUN. 


HAD’S and Dick’s first attempt at shooting wild fowl 



-i- awoke to life the inherent love of hunting, born and 
bred in both. 

The unfortunate death of Jack cooled their ardour for a 
time, but the discovery of Iheir father’s old traps again 
aroused bright visions of sport in the minds of the eager 
youths. 

After their ludicrous attempt at trapping, the boys settled 
down once more to the routine of school-work, but as the 
winter wore away they became restless again, and began to 
talk and plan what they would do in the spring. 

During the short time he was at home, Mr. Kingston kept 
his eyes and ears open, and, being an old sportsman himself, 
soon saw the drift of their actions. 

One day near the close of February, he observed the boys 
hobnobbing by the window overlooking the Mississippi, and 
bottoms. 

They seemed to be deeply engrossed in discussing some 
weighty subject, and although their conversation was carried 
on in too low tones for him to hear much of it, from a word 
caught now and then, together with their gestures, he was 
satisfied that they were talking about shooting in the spring. 

Without saying a word, their father quietly walked over to 


30 


THAD^S FIRST GUN. 


31 


'X. 

where they were standing, and, taking out his watch, gravely 
laid his finger on the pulse of each in turn. 

Dick eyed this proceeding with considerable curiosity, 
which gradually got the better of him, and he inquired : 

“ What are you trying to figure out now } Anything the 
matter with us ” 

‘‘Both rather feverish, Dick,” replied his father, putting 
away his timepiece. 

“ What kind of a fever ? ” asked Dick. 

The kind boys generally get in the spring, — hunting fever. 
Your symptoms are quite pronounced.” 

The boys looked at each other a moment, and Dick re- 
marked, with a mischievous glance at Thad, “Thad is the 
party you want to keep your eye on. He has more than 
a pailful of symptoms, but it don’t bother me a bit.” 

“ I should say not. All you talk about is guns and ducks,” 
retorted Thad. 

^‘Well, suppose we own up to it and ask papa’s advice. 
Now, papa, suppose you were a couple of boys, and wanted to 
go hunting so bad you could taste it ; what would you do 
about it ” said Dick, with a sudden burst of frankness. 

It would depend on circumstances, and how old I was. 
But first, instead of getting off in a comer and standing 
around on one leg, whispering and giggling to myself, I would 
take my father into my confidence and see what he thought 
about the matter,” said Mr. Kingston, with a wink at Thad. 

Well, what does your father think about it ? ” asked Dick. 

“He thinks he would like to have me go, but would prefer 
to have me wait until he could go with me.” 

“ I am afraid we will be grayheaded and dead before that 
time comes,” said Dick. 

“ Can’t you go with us this spring ? ” asked Thad. 


32 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ I am afraid not. I will be very busy until June, anyhow.” 

“ The ducks will all be gone by that time, won’t they 1 ” 
Dick inquired, with a long face. 

“ The spring flight will be over, of course, but it will only 
be a short time until fall. Then I expect to be able to get 
away from business more frequently.” 

Only a short time ! ” echoed Dick, with a lugubrious look. 

It seems to me you have queer ideas of a short time.” 

“Do you think we are too young to go alone, papa.?” 
asked Thad. 

“Yes, considering the fact that neither of you has ever 
had any experience in handling a gun, I do. I am glad you 
both have a desire to learn to shoot, but I want you to begin 
right. I don’t want you to take your first lessons the way I did.” 

“ How did you learn, papa .? ” asked Thad. 

“I didn’t learn, Thad. I just ‘grew’ into it. I might 
illustrate the way I learned by telling you an old story that 
the folks used to tell when I was a boy : 

“ A preacher was one day riding along the road, when he 
overtook a boy driving an ox. The beast was unruly and 
stubborn, and insisted upon having its own way, which fact 
seemed to be giving the little fellow an endless amount of 
trouble. The boy’s early education in regard to using pro- 
fane language had evidently been neglected, for he was 
cursing and swearing like a pirate. 

“ The minister was, of course, greatly shocked to hear such 
terrible oaths coming from a small boy, and, after listening 
a moment, said, reprovingly : ‘ My lad, your language is awful. 
Who brought you up .? ’ 

“ Without turning his head to see who his questioner 
might be, the boy replied, in a sharp, surly tone : 

“‘Nobody. I come up a-foot, driving this darned old ox.’ 


THAD^S FIRST GUN, 


33 


‘‘ And that is the way the boys of my day learned to shoot. 
‘We came up a-foot.’ All that we knew, we picked up at 
odd hours when there was no work that could be trumped up 
for us to do. The holidays enjoyed by a farmer lad were 
few and far between, and if he ever expressed a desire to 
go out in the woods, hunting or fishing, his elders lost no 
opportunity to solemnly warn him against such shiftless 
amusements. They generally ended the lecture by pointing 
with pride to some poor, overworked, thick-headed boy in the 
community who had never been known to express a desire to 
do anything but work and earn money. In the narrow, hard- 
working sphere in which we lived, any inborn love a boy 
might have for the woods and streams was generally crushed 
in its infancy, by hard work. 

“ If a boy should pause in his task to watch a beautiful 
sunset, listen to the song of a bird, or watch one build its 
nest, he was held up to the community as an object of 
ridicule and worthlessness.” 

“Didn’t they want you to ever go hunting or fishing,- or 
have any fun at all } ” asked Dick, wonderingly. 

“Very few of them did. They wanted a boy to work and 
help earn money to buy more land. By the time a boy was 
Thad’s age, he was doing a man’s work, and, as I said before, 
any sentiment, love for the woods and streams, birds and 
flowers, was crushed out of him by humdrum toil. For if 
the country boy does not possess an almost unconquerable 
love for nature, in the prosy world in which most of them 
live, it will dry up just so surely as the spring dries up for 
lack of summer rain. 

“The younger boys,” continued Mr. Kingston, “‘bugged’ 
potatoes, hoed cabbages, potatoes, etc., ran errands, helped 
milk the cows, do the chores, and a thousand other things 


34 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


that were useful in developing the muscles, but left the mind 
dwarfed and stunted. Perhaps not one family in a dozen had 
more than one or two books in the house. Not that they 
couldn’t afford to buy books and other reading matter, but 
they imagined a farmer had no time to read. Then reading 
was a lazy, shiftless habit, anyhow, according to their ideas, 
and of course the longer the mind goes without the stimulus 
of reading, the less it cares for it. 

“ In fact it was one ceaseless round of toil from the time 
a boy was old enough to do chores until he was grown.” 

“ I am awful glad I didn’t live there,” said Dick, with a 
sigh of relief. 

“ So am I, Dick, but those people were not obliged to live 
that way. The majority of them were fairly well-to-do, some 
of them, comparatively wealthy. They could have had books, 
music, and other innocent, healthy relaxations for the mind, 
but they fell in the rut of continuous drudgery, and made of 
themselves human drudges, instead of being the happiest and 
most independent people in the world, as they might have 
been.” 

“ I should thought the boys would have left and gone to 
some town where it wasn’t so dull,” said Thad. 

*‘That is just exactly what many of them did do, and that 
fact has been worrying thinking people for years. The way 
to stop it has been discussed in all of the magazines and 
papers in the land. The reason boys leave the farm is 
because there is too much monotonous drudgery and not 
enough amusement and relaxation. Young people are natu- 
rally fond of society ; they want books, papers, music, games, 
and other amusements. If these things are not furnished 
them, they will go where they can get them. The trouble 
with most farmers is that, in their greediness, they get more 


TffAD^S FIRST GUN. 


3S 


land than they can half work properly, and their nose is 
kept at the grindstone continually. It is a very true saying 
that ‘ all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.’ 

“I tell you these things,” continued Mr. Kingston, ‘‘that 
you may know the difficulties country boys of my age were 
obliged to contend with in acquiring the art of shooting or 
fishing. In most of the homes there was an old rusty shot- 
gun, musket, or rifle, in the various stages of worthlesness. 
These were all the weapons we had to learn with. 

“ Those of us that were permitted to use a gun had no one 
to teach us the proper charge to use, how to load, shoot, or 
hunt game. Consequently, we went creeping and crawling 
around, pot-shooting birds on the ground, in flocks, and the 
boy that could kill the greatest number of birds at one shot 
was the best hunter. We did not make an effort toward 
learning to shoot on the wing for some years after we began 
to hunt. 

“ Many parents forbade the younger boys using the gun at 
all, and, to make sure that the command was obeyed, some 
went so far as to take the hammers off the guns. The conse- 
quences were, some disobedient, headstrong youths, if they 
could obtain a supply of ammunition, would steal the gun 
out of the house, and, joined by others of their companions, 
go hunting with no hammer on the gun.” 

“ How could they shoot without the hammer ? ” queried 
Dick. 

“When they found some birds, or other game, one boy 
would rest the gun upon a log fence or stump, and take aim ; 
when ready to shoot, one of his companions struck the cap 
with a stone or hammer, and exploded the gun. In addition 
to the bother and danger of that awkward way of shooting, 
the boy who owned the gun had the cheerful prospect of 


36 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


getting a thrashing upon his return home, if he failed to 
smuggle the gun back into the house without being observed. 

“ To illustrate another way a gun may be fired without the 
hammer, I will relate how a friend of mine won his people’s 
consent to go hunting. 

“ When he was a tow-headed, duck-legged boy about Dick’s 
age, he became strongly imbued with the shooting fever. His 
people owned a heavy, rusty old musket, and as soon as they 
discovered this boy knew how to use it, they took off the 
hammer and hid the ammunition. But the wild pigeons were 
flying in great numbers, and he was determined to get some 
of them. 

He obtained a few loads of powder and shot from some 
place, but could get no caps. The caps used on this musket 
were just the shape and almost as large as a small plug hat. 
However, nothing daunted, he obtained a supply of matches, 
and, pouring his ammunition into bottles, sallied forth. 

“He knew of a field, not far from home, where the wild 
pigeons came to feed at certain hours of the day in great 
droves, and thither he bent his steps, staggering under the 
weight of the old musket. 

“ The field in which the pigeons fed was enclosed by an old 
rail fence, and surrounded with timber and brush. Cautiously 
he stole through the woods up to the fence, and peeped 
through between the rails. 

“A short distance from the fence stood an old dead tree, 
and to his great joy it was full of pigeons. The old musket 
was quietly poked between the rails, a few grains of fine 
powder dropped on the nipple, then taking a match he broke 
off the head and placed it on the nipple also. Being ready 
now, he took a flat rock from his pocket, aimed at the tree, 
shut his eyes, and struck the nipple with the rock. 









“ A ROAR FOLLOWED THE BLOW, AND THE BOY WAS KICKED FOUR 

FEET INTO SOME HAZEL BRUSH.” 




< t 






THAD^S FIRST GUN. 


37 


A roar followed the blow, and the boy was kicked four 
feet into some hazel brush. Not knowing the proper load for 
the old gun, and being anxious to secure as many pigeons as 
possible, he had put in about twice an ordinary charge. 

“ As he staggered to his feet, bruised and sore, he peered 
through the fence to see the result of his shot. A number 
of pigeons were fluttering on the ground, showing his aim 
had been true and deadly. 

“He was just congratulating himself upon the lucky shot, 
when he was startled by hearing a gruff, familiar voice say : 

“ ‘ Well, young fellow, pick up your pigeons and come on 
home.’ 

“Looking up, he recognised a stalwart uncle, a lake cap- 
tain, the weight of whose hand he had felt more than once 
for various youthful offences. Feeling lame and sore from 
the vigorous kick the old musket had kindly dealt him, he 
naturally had a delicacy about getting a thrashing on top of 
it, so he went through the fence like a cat, and stood defiantly 
on the other side, waiting for hostilities to begin. 

“But, much to his surprise, his gruff old uncle did not 
offer to punish him. Perhaps the difficulties under which the 
boy was labouring in trying to learn to shoot awakened a 
feeling of pity in his rough but kind heart. 

“At any rate, he assisted his nephew in gathering the 
dead and wounded pigeons, — a goodly number of them, — 
walked home with him, found the hidden hammer, placed it 
on the gun, got the powder-flask and shot-pouch, showed the 
boy how much ammunition to use in loading the gun, then, 
turning to his parents, said, gruffly : 

“ ‘ When that boy wants to go hunting again, you let him 
go, and let him go right, and not have him trying to shoot 
with a piece of a gun.’ ” 


38 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


That’s the stuff ! That’s the kind of an uncle to have ! ” 
cried Dick. 

“Sure pop! I would like to hug him. He understands 
boys,” said Thad. 

“ Did you hunt alone very much, or was there some other 
boy to hunt with you ? ” asked Dick. 

“I hunted alone frequently. Sometimes there would be 
from two to six of us together, and we carried a motley 
assortment of guns, I can tell you; no two of them alike. 
Perhaps one boy would be armed with an old single-barrelled 
shotgun ; another, a smooth-bore ; another, a double-barrelled 
shotgun, the stock tied together with strings or wire, 
where it had been broken years before ; still another proudly 
carried a heavy musket, the stock running the whole length 
of the barrel, the latter encircled with several big, showy 
brass rings, an iron ramrod, a hammer weighing nearly a 
pound, and a stock solid enough to crush the skull of 
an ox.” 

“ That must have been a queer gun. Did it shoot good ? ” 
laughed Dick. 

“ No ; it scattered all over a ten-acre lot at forty yards, 
like most of the others. I hunted with one of them for 
several years. You could never depend on killing a bird, 
even if you aimed right.” 

“I suppose all kinds of game were very plentiful along 
these Mississippi bottoms when you were a boy,” said Thad. 

“Yes; thousands of ducks, geese, snipe, pinnated grouse, 
or prairie chickens, as you call them, wild pigeons, quail, 
rabbits, squirrels, wildcats, rattlesnakes, etc.” 

“The rattlesnakes are not all gone yet. Thad and I 
killed two, last summer,” said Dick. 

“Yes ; and there are a number of wildcats in the caves and 


THAD'S FIRST GUN. 


39 


fissures of the rocks now, but they are seldom seen,” replied 
his father. 

“The game we hunted most, though, on account of its 
great numbers,” continued Mr. Kingston, “was duck; and 
the only way we knew to hunt them was to walk from one 
lake or pond to another, and peer into it cautiously, until we 
discovered a flock feeding. Then all was excitement : 

“ ‘ Oh, look ! look ! There is a flock ! ’ 

“ ‘ That’s so ! Get down ! Get down ! ’ 

“ ‘ Cock your gun ! ’ 

“ ‘ Let down your hammers ! ’ 

“ ‘ Shut up, or you’ll scare them ! ’ 

“ ‘ Don’t point your gun at my head ! ’ 

“ These are a sample of the remarks. Then if we were 
lucky enough not to frighten them with the noise we made, 
everybody began crawling through the grass, or brush, 
dragging the guns by the muzzle — Why, what is the 
matter, Thad 

For that young gentleman was poking Dick in the ribs, 
and gently quaking with suppressed laughter, while the latter 
party was looking uncomfortable and red in the face. 

“ I beg your pardon, papa, for my rudeness, but I couldn’t 
help it. The remarks you boys made when you saw ducks 
was about the way Dick acted last fall, the day we were 
hunting, and I have to laugh when I think of the ridiculous 
figure he cut, by yelling and diving into the rushes head 
first. He scared a flock clear out of the State,” said Thad, 
sobering up. 

“ Oh, pshaw ! ” said Dick, looking warm about the collar, 
and tossing his head. 

“ Never mind, Dick, wait sometime until a flock catches 
Thad unawares, and watch his manoeuvres.” 


40 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ Don’t worry, Dick, I forgive you. You didn’t know any 
better,” said Thad, his eyes brimming with mischief. 

“ I’ll get even with you sometime, old fellow,” replied 
Dick, shaking his finger at his brother. 

“ A boy should have some older person with him at first, 
who knows how to hunt and shoot, to teach him how to load 
and handle his gun properly. That is the reason I want to 
go with you at first. And another thing I wish to impress 
upon your minds. Don’t try to steal away hunting alone, 
without letting me know it, as if I were your enemy. I want 
you both to consider me your partner in all of your amuse- 
ments, as well as your work. Tell me about your hunting 
trips ; your hits and misses ; where you go, and what you see ; 
your good and bad luck. I will appreciate it, and go with 
you as often as possible. And don’t neglect your studies, or 
work you may have to do, to go hunting. 

‘‘ Now I have a proposition to make. If you will refrain 
from shooting this spring, next fall I will buy Thad a new 
gun.” 

“ Good ! good ! That’s the talk,” cried Thad, springing to 
his feet, and clapping his hands. 

“ May I shoot it sometimes .? ” asked Dick, plaintively. 

‘‘Yes; you shall be taught to shoot at the same time, 
Dick, but to Thad must be entrusted the care of the gun, as 
I do not think you are quite old enough.” 

“ I thing I am pretty old,” said Dick, trying so hard to 
look wise and sedate that his mother laughed. 

“You are, but you will be older after awhile,” said his 
father. 

“ I wish I was twenty,” sighed Dick. 

“You will make the same wish when you are forty,” replied 
his father, dryly. Continuing, he said : 


THAD^S FIRST GUN. 


41 


I will buy you a gun a year from next fall, Dick. Will 
that do > ” 

''Yes, sir, if I can’t have one before,” said Dick, with so 
much candour that everybody laughed. 

" How does my proposition suit you, boys } ” 

" All right, papa,” was the answer from both. 

Then Dick arose, and taking his father by the hand, led 
him over to where Thad sat, and said, with mock gravity : 
"This is our new partner, Thad.” And Thad extended his 
hand with a glad smile. 

Slowly the long cold winter, with its retinue of glistening 
snow-banks and biting north winds, wore away. 

The ice lay so thick on the Mississippi that the vernal 
equinox was near at hand before the softening air made any 
perceptible impression upon its solidity ; but the onward 
march of the seasons could not be stayed, and the reign of 
the gentle summer queen was near at hand. 

Gradually the big white snow-drifts shrunk in size, and 
acquired a dirty, smoky hue. 

The mass of black, rotting ice held stubbornly in the 
river, loath to leave its winter home, but the fight was in 
vain. 

Slowly but surely the imprisoned river broke its icy fetters, 
loosening a band here and there, peeping out through its 
frosty prison, dancing and sparkling with the old blue flash. 

A gentle rain, a soft south wind, and the victory was com- 
plete. 

The forces of Jack Frost were routed, and his reign was 
over for the season. 

Huge masses of honeycombed ice went drifting and grind- 
ing down the broad river, now piling high over a barely sub- 


42 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


merged bar, anon breaking into smaller fragments, through 
the action of the winds and waves. 

Then came the northern flight of wild fowl. 

Thad and Dick stood by the window in their cosy little 
home on the Iowa bluffs overlooking the Mississippi, and 
watched, with all a boy hunter’s eagerness, the flight of 
ducks and geese stream up the river on their long northern 
flight. 

Through the pattering rain-drops the boys could see the 
advance guard of pintails, steadily beating their way toward 
the frozen North on fearless, unwearied pinions. 

With glistening eyes they watched the mallards, circling 
around the wooded lakes and islands, or alighting on the ice 
cakes in the river and floating along with the current, 
chattering and calling to their fellows like a bevy of school- 
girls. 

Their first hunt, the preceding autumn, had awakened to 
life the instinct latent in every healthy boy, and a longing 
desire took possession of each to try again his skill upon 
the ducks. 

Presently, Dick turned to his brother with a comical look, 
and said : 

Thad, do you suppose we can ever wait until next fall } ” 

Thad laughed. 

“ Of course we can. I am not going to watch them any 
longer, and then I won’t want to go,” and he resolutely 
turned from the window and picked up a book. 

Dick reluctantly turned from the window, and, as he looked 
up, met the laughing brown eyes of his mother. 

“Now what are you laughing at, missis ?” he asked, walk- 
ing over to her, with a threatening aspect. 

“ Oh, nothing, only I was thinking that you might be 


THAD'S FIRST GUN. 


43 


Studying your geography lesson, since it is raining so you 
cannot go to school ; then you will not have time to bother 
about the ducks,” said Mrs. Kingston, demurely. 

Dick complied, but it was hard work keeping his eyes 
away from the river. 

Half an hour later he and Thad were both bending over a 
map of Iowa, engaged in an animated discussion as to whether 
Spirit Lake or Storm Lake, in northern Iowa, would be the 
better place for duck and goose shooting. 

How many boy readers have tried to study under similar 
circumstances } 

The pleasant days of spring insensibly melted into the 
torrid heat of summer, which, in turn, gave place to the cool- 
ing breezes of September. 

The public school attended by Thad and Dick was in the 

quiet little village of T , nestling at the foot of the bluff, 

directly on the banks of the Mississippi, a mile distant from 
their home. 

Both boys were eager students, and never missed a day 
from school, unless by sickness or bad weather, and none 
stood higher in the various studies than they. 

One pleasant Friday afternoon, as they returned from 
school, Mrs. Kingston said : 

Boys, I expect papa home to-night.” 

Instantly Thad was all attention. 

“ I wonder if he will bring my gun. Do you suppose he 
will, mamma ? ” 

“ I don’t know for sure, but I shouldn’t be surprised if he 
did,” replied his mother, evasively. 

« Bully. Mr. Dick Kingston, I am going to have a gun,” 
shouted Thad, giving his brother a playful punch in 


44 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


the ribs, and scampering out of the house, yelling like an 
Indian. 

“ Oh shucks, you make more fuss over that old gun than 
some folks would over a gold mine,” retorted Dick, chasing 
after him. 

“ What’s a gold mine, compared to a gun } I would 
sooner have a gun than half a dozen gold mines,” replied 
Thad, with supreme contempt, pausing to inspect the broad 
bosom of the Mississippi, placidly gliding along beneath 
them. 

If he does, we will try it to-morrow, won’t we ” said 
Dick, eagerly. 

I rather suspect we will, my son,” replied Thad, folding 
his arms, and looking down at his brother with an air of 
conscious wisdom. 

The following morning the boys came racing down-stairs 
with eager, expectant faces. A well-known figure sat in the 
easy chair by the window overlooking the river. 

As the boys came trooping into the room, the figure 
turned, and Mr. Kingston said : 

“ Good morning, Thad. Good morning, Dick.” 

“ Good morning, papa,” shouted both boys together, and 
then for a minute it was difficult to distinguish man from boy 
as they climbed over him. A moment later, Dick popped 
the question to him fairly. 

Did you bring our gun, papa } ” 

Our gun ! ” echoed Mr. Kingston, with mock surprise. 
** When did you decide to get a gun ” 

“ Last spring,” replied Dick, promptly. 

** Now look here, papa Kingston,” he continued, “ you 
and Thad need not try to impose upon me because I am 
small. I must have an interest in that gun until I get one 


THAD^S FIRST GUN. 45 

of my own. Mustn’t I, mamma } ” appealing to Mrs. King- 
ston, who was busily engaged preparing breakfast. 

I guess papa and Thad will give you a few shares of 
stock in it,” she replied, smiling in the direction of the curly 
head. 

** If they don’t, they can’t even look at my gun when I 
get it.” 

Mr. Kingston laughed and disappeared in his bedroom, 
from whence he emerged a moment later with a light twelve- 
gauge muzzle-loader. 

“ Breech-loading shotguns are coming in use of late, but 
they are very costly yet, and I did not feel able to pay the 
price necessary to get a good one, so I bought you a muzzle- 
loader. However, if they prove a success, they will be 
cheaper in a few years, and then you can get one. There is 
your gun, my boy, and I hope it will afford you as much 
pleasure as my first one did me.” 

‘‘Thank you, papa. I don’t know how you felt, but it 
doesn’t seem possible for you to have been much happier 
than I am,” replied Thad, frankly, as he took the treasure 
with glistening eyes. 

No one but a boy near his age can fully understand or 
appreciate the feeling of adoration with which Thad regarded 
his first gun. 

How he gloated over it ; pointed it at every visible object 
out of the window ; cocked and uncocked it ; looked care- 
fully at the locks and barrels. He examined every part with 
the air and wisdom of a critic. 

At last he handed it to Dick with the remark : 

“ Gee whiz, Dick ! Won’t we have some jolly times with 
that little beauty "i ” 

Now Dick had been watching his brother go through the 


46 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


various manoeuvres with a slight feeling of jealousy, for the 
fact gradually came home to him that the gun was for Thad. 
But the generous, whole-hearted manner in which his brother 
said *‘we” took away the sting, and as he handled the 
treasure, he could only smile and say : ‘‘ That’s what we will, 
Thad.” 


CHAPTER IV. 

TRYING THE NEW GUN. 

T T 7ELL, boys, what is the programme to-day.? I sup- 
* V pose I will sit in my favourite chair by the window 
overlooking the old Mississippi, and read and smoke and 
enjoy the scenery,” said Mr. Kingston, with a twinkle in his 
eye, as they were finishing breakfast. 

“We are very sorry to disturb your dreams of comfort, 
papa, but business is business. Here Dick and I have been 
under two hundred pounds pressure since last spring, and 
when a boy only gets a gun once in thirteen years, it seems 
as though the event ought to be celebrated at once-; hadn’t 
it, Dick .? ” 

“ It’s got to be celebrated, that’s all there is about it, and 
I guess papa knows it as well as we do, for I saw an awful 
deep wink in the back part of his eye. You come with us, 
papa, and we’ll give you an imitation of a man and two boys 
trying a new gun,” said Dick, passing his plate for another 
pancake. 

“ The man will be useful to carry the game, I suppose,” 
said his father with an amused smile. 

“ Now don’t get sarcastic, papa,” said Dick, eyeing his father 
sharply as he sipped his coffee. “ He will probably be useful 
for a whole lot of things, but I don’t suppose he will carry 
much game ; he has a more important office to fill.” 


47 


48 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


What is that ? ” asked Mr. Kingston, pushing back from 
the table. 

“You are to be preceptor, supreme counsellor, and chief 
of ordnance,” broke in Thad. 

“ Good boy, just what I was trying to think of,” said Dick, 
gleefully patting his brother on the back so hard that the 
latter spilled his coffee. 

“ Please don’t be quite so demonstrative ; you act like a 
schoolboy instead of an old hunter,” said Thad, trying to 
look severe. 

“ Any salary attached to those offices ? ” asked Mr. King- 
ston, doing his best to keep from laughing at the boys’ 
antics. 

“Certainly. You will receive six hundred dollars’ worth 
of gratitude per year, which added to a thousand dollars’ 
worth of filial affection, and about five hundred dollars’ 
worth of amusement at watching our mistakes, will make 
you pretty fair wages,” said Dick, gravely. 

“ Quite a seductive salary, but I am afraid it wouldn’t 
buy many groceries.” 

“You will have to skirmish for the groceries at odd times 
until Thad and I get big enough to help,” said Dick, as 
Thad made a dive into the bedroom after his gun. 

As he emerged with it, he said : “ Did you get a powder- 
flask and shot-pouch, papa.?” 

Kingston went into the beduoom and came out carrying 
a bulky package. This he unwrapped and said : “ Here is 
your powder-flask and double shot-pouch, both filled with 
ammunition ; the powder and shot measures are both gauged 
right for your gun now ; here is a canvas hunting hat for 
each, and here are two pairs of light rubber hunting boots to 
keep your feet dry, and prevent rheumatism.” 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 


49 


‘‘Cracky, I feel like an old hunter already,” said Dick, 
surveying the numerous articles. 

“ How do your boots fit, Dick ? ” 

“Just right,” replied the latter. 

“ So do mine,” said Thad, surveying himself admiringly, as 
he buckled on his shot-belt. 

As they passed out into the yard, Kingston said, “Now 
let’s load ; hold your gun away from the body, and nearly 
perpendicular, — so,” and he loaded with the deftness of long 
practice. 

“ You do very well, Thad,” he remarked, as he watched the 
latter’s slower movements. 

“Now cap your gun and carry it at half-cock, always, 
unless expecting game at any moment, then keep it full- 
cocked ; and when hunting with one or more companions, 
always remember where they are, and keep your gun pointed 
away from them. Have either of you noticed many ducks 
flying he asked, as the trio wended their way down the 
winding road that led to the bottom of the bluff. 

“ I have seen a good many down toward the lower end of 
the bottoms, and over on the Illinois side,” replied Thad. 

“ They are all local ducks that have been raised here. If 
we have time, we may go down and stir them up a bit ; the 
northern teal will come now with the first cool rain. 

“ We might walk along under the bluff a little way ; perhaps 
we may see a squirrel, and find out how the new gun performs 
on game. Come on ; talk low and make as little noise as 
possible, and when you see game don’t get excited.” With 
these words, Kingston turned and strode along the base of 
the rocky, ragged bluff. 

It was a delightfully cool morning in September. A few 
trees, always in the vanguard of fashion, were beginning to 


50 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


doff their summer dress of green, and don the new fall styles 
of colouring. 

Now and then a wanton leaf, having fulfilled its mission, 
with a whispered good-bye to its fellows, dropped from the 
parent stem and fluttered slowly to its new resting-place on 
the grassy carpet, henceforth to be the plaything of idle 
winds until the drifting snows wrapped it in a fleecy shroud 
of white. 

The ground, sloping sharply up to the base of the rocks, 
was covered with a scattered growth of trees, among which 
the hickory, ash, walnut, butternut, maple, and oak predomi- 
nated. 

Thickets of wild plum-trees and hazel brush alternated 
with open, grassy glades, the turf sodded with short blue- 
grass, always restful to the eye. Above this sylvan scene 
towered the Mississippi bluffs, a ragged, irregular mass of 
rocks, from one to two hundred feet in height, seamed and 
fissured with the convulsions of the ages. Here and there a 
little ravine, covered with grass and trees, dropped down from 
the summit of the bluff, breaking the monotony of the wall 
of rocks and making a convenient pathway up or down. 

The rent and torn condition of the rocks left numerous 
caves and fissures, that were the secure retreat of numerous 
wildcats and rattlesnakes, but they were shy and seldom 
seen. 

“ Oh, I see one, I see one ! ” shouted Dick, slapping his 
hands on his hips, and dashing ahead toward a big hickory- 
tree. 

When Mr. Kingston and Thad arrived under the tree, Dick 
was eagerly peering up among the leaves. 

Here he is, Thad, I see him ; hurry up ! ” yelled Dick, in 
a shrill voice. 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 5 I 

“Where is he?” asked Thad, coming to his brother’s 
side. 

“ Right up there ; see him ? ” cried Dick, pointing up in 
the tree. 

“ I don’t see him,” said Thad, after looking a moment. 

“Well, I don’t either now, but he was there; I wonder 
what could have frightened him,” said Dick, in an inquiring 
tone. 

“Stop and think a moment, Dick, and see if you cannot 
discover the reason,” said Mr. Kingston, in a low voice, 
stepping to the boy’s side. 

Dick looked up in astonishment, and met his father’s 
serious gaze. Glancing toward Thad, he saw his brother’s 
eyes brimming with merriment. Suddenly a light dawned 
upon Dick, and his face crimsoned. 

“ Do you remember my instructions when we started to 
look for squirrels ? ” said Mr. Kingston, kindly. 

“Yes, sir. You told us to talk low, and not get excited; 
but I forgot,” replied Dick, meekly. 

“ That is the first lesson you must learn, if you wish to b.e 
a successful sportsman. Game of all kinds is easily frightened 
at any unusual noise, and especially by the sound of the human 
voice ; for that reason you must acquire the habit of always 
talking in a low voice when out hunting. Your squirrel is on 
the opposite side of the tree, and it will always keep on the 
opposite side so long as you make so much noise. Thad, you 
remain here perfectly motionless, and Dick and I will go 
around to the other side ; then you will get a shot, if there are 
no holes in the tree.” 

As they stepped quietly to the other side, Thad’s sharp 
eyes caught sight of a lithe, reddish object creeping around 
to his side. Quietly raising the gun to his shoulder, he fired. 


52 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


There was a rattling of twigs and leaves, and a moment later 
the squirrel struck the ground with a thump. 

“First blood for the new gun,” said Thad, as he proudly 
picked up his quarry and handed it to Dick to place in the 
game-bag. 

“ Let us walk down to the grove where you gather hickory 
nuts, and I will show you an easy way to find squirrels,” said 
Mr. Kingston. 

A few minutes’ walk, and they were in a fine grove, that 
contained a number of hickory-trees. 

Kingston walked up to a large oak, where an old moss- 
grown log lay a few feet from the base, and, seating himself 
upon the short velvety sward, motioned the boys to do like- 
wise, saying as he did so, in a low voice : “ Let us rest a few 
minutes.” 

“ What is the use of sitting down here, papa ? There isn’t 
a sign of a squirrel,” whispered Dick, seating himself by his 
father’s side. 

“Sh — don’t move!” was the reply, and the trio became 
motionless as statues. 

For perhaps five minutes the solemn, almost weird, stillness 
of the forest was unbroken, save by the whisper of the leaves 
or the occasional cry of a bird. 

Suddenly a chattering bark was heard, followed by another, 
and two red squirrels came racing down a big hickory. 

A defiant bark came from another tree, then another 
and another, until it seemed that every tree was full of 
squirrels. 

One daring acrobat leaped to a distant limb, caught grace- 
fully by his fore paws, swung up on the limb, and scampered 
to the tree. 

Another ran out upon the limb of a hickory, and, seating 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 


53 


himself upon his haunches, produced a hickory-nut and gravely 
began cutting notches in it with his keen teeth, shuffling it 
about in his paws as a boy would a hot cooky. 

In a few moments, six or eight squirrels had been seen or 
located. Mr. Kingston glanced at Dick out of the corner of 
his eye. 

The boy’s face was a study ; surprise and astonishment 
were written upon every lineament. With the natural rest- 
lessness of a boy of his age, he could hardly contain himself ; 
perhaps the recent lesson helped somewhat. 

Thad was scarcely less surprised than his brother ; it was 
a new sight to him, and he enjoyed it hugely. 

Finally Mr. Kingston said, in a low voice : Mark the trees 
where they hide ; come on.” 

As they arose to their feet, there was a sudden stillness, 
then a hurried scampering of red and gray bodies, and 
our hunters were apparently alone, not a squirrel was in 
sight. 

‘‘ You and Dick take that tree where those two disappeared, 
and I will look into this one to the right. Keep on opposite 
sides of the tree,” said Mr. Kingston, starting off by himself. 

The boys took the hint, and surrounded a hickory where 
two squirrels had disappeared. 

In a few moments Thad killed one, and promptly handed 
the gun to Dick with the remark, Kill the other one.” 

Dick laid the foundation of his reputation as a squirrel 
hunter by killing the other, a big, fat red. 

Kingston walked to a tree a few paces distant and soon 
killed a squirrel. Then he pretended to be deeply engaged 
in looking for more, but in reality he was observing the boys 
and the way they acted, for he had purposely sent them to a 
separate tree. 


54 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Pretty soon he saw Dick gesticulating violently, and heard 
him say to his brother, in an excited voice : 

Hurry up, Thad, and load quick, and kill another ; there 
are oceans of them.” 

Thad was somewhat rattled at seeing so many squirrels, 
and Dick’s excitability made him worse. Mr. Kingston, who 
was quietly taking in the scene unnoticed, saw Thad hurriedly 
pour in both charges of powder, and follow it with two charges 
of shot, then pushing down the wads, he was just preparing 
to place the caps on the nipples when Mr. Kingston stepped 
to his side. 

‘‘ Hold on a moment, Thad.” 

The latter paused with the caps in his hand, and said, in a 
wondering tone : 

‘‘What is the matter, papa } ” 

“ Did you put wads over the powder ? ” queried his father, 
throwing down his squirrel. 

“ Yes, sir. That is, I think I did,” said Thad, his confidence 
beginning to weaken. 

“To be sure, let us draw the shot wads, then we can tell.” 

He took the gun, unscrewed the wormer top, and drew the 
wads ; then placing the muzzle of the gun in the palm of his 
hand, he elevated the butt-plate to the zenith, and gave the 
gun a sharp rap. A handful of powder and shot, nicely mixed, 
reposed in his hand. 

Thad stared at this assortment of ammunition a moment, 
and looked very cheap and foolish. 

“ Aha ! I guess somebody else gets excited sometimes,” 
cried Dick, grinning with delight at Thad’s mistake. 

“You are as much to blame as I,” said Thad, indignantly ; 
“ you kept telling me to hurry ; you were so excited you didn’t 
know whether you were standing on your head or your heels.” 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 55 

“I could load that good if I was standing on my head,” 
replied Dick, coolly, as he peered around in the trees. 

“ Don’t let it worry you, Thad ; every young shooter has 
the same experience. I did the same trick many a time, 
when I first began to shoot. You will gradually work into a 
regular routine method of loading and never make a mistake.” 

He’ll have to blunder along and do the best he can till I 
get my new gun, then I’ll teach him how to load properly,” 
remarked Dick, gravely. 

^‘We have squirrels enough; suppose we walk out on the 
bottoms and see if we can find a blackbird, crow, or duck on 
which to try the new gun,” said Mr. Kingston. 

“Let’s go down to Long Lake, it’s only about half a mile 
down in the woods, and there are nearly always wood-ducks 
in there,” suggested Thad. 

“All right,” replied his father, and Dick stowing the squir- 
rels away in the game-bag, they wended their way through the 
forest. 

They had gone perhaps fifty yards, when suddenly, without 
the slightest warning, a big brown bird flashed from a little 
thicket, and shot away with the velocity of a rocket. 

The boys stood with open mouths, watching its sudden 
flight, and Thad just had time to say, “What is that.?” and 
Dick to remark in astonishment, “ O gee ! ” when the bird lay 
fluttering on the ground. 

Kingston’s gun had sprung from his shoulder with incon- 
ceivable swiftness, and checked the bird’s mad flight ere it 
had gone thirty yards. 

“ What is it, papa .? ” inquired Thad, as his father quickly 
reloaded. 

“A ruffed grouse,” was the reply. 

“ Hully gee, papa, you’re pretty near lightning, ain’t you .? 


56 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


How could you think to shoot so quick ? ” remarked Dick, 
gazing with open-mouthed awe at his father’s dexterous 
performance. 

*‘‘A person who has hunted for years gets accustomed to 
acting very quickly,” replied his father, as they walked forward 
and picked up the grouse. 

A short distance farther, Mr. Kingston called attention to 
a crow sitting on a tree about sixty yards distant. 

‘‘Try your gun on that fellow, Thad.” 

The latter poised his gun and fired, but failed to score, for 
the crow, giving himself a vigorous shake, flew away with a 
disgusted caw. 

“ He acts as though he had run a splinter in his leg,” 
remarked Dick. 

“You tickled him a little, Thad; it was a long shot, and 
they are hard to kill,” said Mr. Kingston, as Thad reloaded. 

Long Lake, so called, was a long, shallow pond surrounded 
by quite dense woods, and was a favourite place for the shy, 
handsome wood-duck, owing to its secluded Ideation and the 
abundance of acorns along the banks. Our trio of hunters 
came to the west shore near the north end, and looked 
cautiously down the long, narrow vista of water. 

Near the south end a flock of perhaps a dozen wood-ducks 
were feeding. Mr. Kingston said : 

“You boys walk around through the woods, and if you go 
quietly, and avoid stepping on dead limbs and sticks, you can 
walk up behind some big trees standing on the bank and get 
close enough for a shot. But don’t try to crawl on the 
ground, you are liable to get dirt, sticks or leaves in the muz- 
zle of your gun, and, besides, it is a very undignified way of 
getting near game. I know many shooters do it. I used to 
myself ; but I have come to the conclusion that if a person 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 


57 


cannot get near enough to game without crawling on his 
stomach through the dirt and mud, like a snake, he had 
better hunt some place where he can. I will remain here, 
and if they fly this way I will get a shot, also. Don’t forget 
what I told you in regard to pointing your gun toward Dick.” 

“All right, sir,” replied Thad, respectfully, and the boys 
disappeared in the forest. 

“ I hope we’ll kill a lot of ’em, don’t you } ” said Dick, 
excitedly, as he trudged along, dodging brush and grape-vines. 

“ If I get near enough with this new gun. I’ll kill some,” 
replied Thad, confidently, as he ducked under a curving 
grape-vine. 

Dick was about to make another remark, when his toe 
caught under a root and he took a long header down a little 
sloping, leaf-strewn ravine. 

The ground was soft, and he was uninjured, but as he arose 
and brushed the dirt and leaves from his clothing, he caught 
sight of a bluejay sitting on a tree near by, and Dick could 
see just as plainly as he ever saw anything that the impudent 
bird was laughing at his mishap. 

It was hopping about on a limb, first one eye and then 
the other cocked toward the boys, chattering and chuckling 
away at a great rate. 

It seemed to say : 

“ You are a great hunter, can’t walk on level ground with- 
out falling down and running your nose in the mud.” 

At least, that is what it sounded like to Dick, and, being 
somewhat irritated by his fall, he picked up a club and hurled 
it at the offender with the remark : “ Skip, you blue piece of 
impudence, and not be making fun of your betters.” 

But the bluejay was chuckling and ha-ha-ing away through 
the woods long before the missile had reached its destination. 


58 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


The boys reached the lower end of the lake without further 
mishap, and Thad motioned Dick to remain behind while he 
walked softly up to the bank, behind a large tree. Cautious, 
however, as his movements had been, the keen-eared ducks 
were aware of his approach, and as he reached the shelter 
of the tree a chorus of frightened squeals greeted his ears as 
the ducks took wing and flew up the lake. 

Thad fired one barrel at them, and just as he did so a 
wood-duck sprang from the bank in front of him. Thad gave 
it the remaining barrel, and had the satisfaction of seeing it 
drop to the water, dead. 

“How many did you kill } ” shouted Dick, running up to 
the bank. 

“ Only one, with the last barrel ; the others saw me,” replied 
Thad, walking down the bank to the water’s edge. 

By this time the ducks had reached the upper end of the 
lake, and the boys saw two puffs of smoke follow each other 
in quick succession from the bank. A moment later they 
saw a double splash on the water, and Dick shouted, “ Hurrah 
for papa, he’s got two.” 

“ See if you can wade out to the duck,” said Thad. 

Dick picked up a short pole and slowly waded out to the 
floating duck. He was just stooping to pick it up, when he 
heard a whistle of wings, and, looking up, saw a bunch of 
wood-ducks over his head. 

He shrunk a little in his clothes and waited to hear Thad 
shoot, but the latter didn’t shoot. 

Dick looked up and said : “Ain’t loaded, I suppose } ” 

“ No,” replied Thad, somewhat sheepishly. 

“ Seems to me you forget a whole lot of things you hadn’t 
ought to,” remarked Dick, in a disgusted tone, as he waded 
ashore with the duck. 



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4 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 


59 


Let’s go up where papa is,” said Thad, as soon as he had 
reloaded. The boys walked along the wooded shore, Thad in 
advance with the gun under his arm, the muzzle pointing 
ahead as he had been instructed. They had gone perhaps a 
third of the distance, when both were startled by a nerve- 
thrilling twitter as a brown streak sprang up ten feet ahead 
and darted into the timber. 

“Do you know what that was.?” asked Thad, looking 
wisely at his brother. 

Dick studied a moment and said, “I’ll bet it was a 
woodcock.” 

“Right, my child,” was the reply, as Thad started 
on. 

“Why didn’t you shoot at it .? ” grinned Dick. 

“ Because I didn’t consider it in my class,” retorted Thad, 
promptly. “ I am in the C grade, and that fellow has evidently 
graduated, by the way it went.” 

“ Pshaw! I believe I could hit one,” said Dick, in a spirit of 
bravado. 

“You hit one! A little sawed-off critter like you hit a 
woodcock ! ” said Thad, scornfully. “Why, it would be out of 
sight before you could cock the gun.” 

“No, it wouldn’t ; I would cock the gun before it got up,” 
replied Dick, confidently. 

“ Here, smarty, give me the game-bag, and you take the 
gun and step ahead. I don’t think a person of your talents 
should be kept in the background on account of age,” said 
Thad, sarcastically, handing the gun to his brother and taking 
the game-bag. 

Now that he was invited to make the test, Dick’s con- 
fidence began to ooze away, but he was too proud to back 
down ; so taking the gun, he carefully cocked the right barrel 


6o 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


and walked slowly ahead, inwardly hoping no more woodcock 
would show up. 

Thad’s sarcastic remark to try and leave a few for seed ” 
did not tend to help his nerves much, either. 

He had not gone ten feet when a brown ball flashed up 
almost at his feet, made a lightning-like gyration, and shot 
through the tree-tops with a mocking twitter. 

Poor Dick stood motionless, watching with amazement 
this display of aerial evolutions. 

“Why didn’t you shoot That was a nice easy shot,” 
laughed Thad. 

Dick was stung by the taunt, but, making no reply, walked 
slowly ahead. 

He had gone about twenty yards when another bunch of 
brown lightning sprang up and darted away. 

That one took a straight-away course for a few yards, and 
was in sight long enough for Dick’s mind to act. 

In despair at trying to take aim at such a shifting mark, he 
pointed the gun somewhere in the direction of the brown 
streak, and without taking aim, or even placing the gun 
against his shoulder, pulled the trigger. 

It was one of those unaccountable scratch shots that occur 
at rare intervals to every sportsman. 

The woodcock, less than twenty yards distant, was struck 
fairly with the charge, and dropped to the ground, riddled 
with shot. 

Dick was the proudest and happiest boy in the county, 
when he ran ahead at breakneck speed and picked up his 
long-billed quarry. 

When Thad came up, looking amazed and beaten at Dick’s 
performance, the latter triumphantly held up the woodcock 
and grinned. 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 


6l 

“ I suppose that accidental shot will swell your head so 
you will have to wear your hat on one of the bumps/’ 
remarked Thad. 

That wasn’t an accidental shot. I aimed right at him.” 

'‘I should say you did; you didn’t aim at all. You just 
pointed the gun in a northwesterly direction, and the wood- 
cock flew through the charge.” 

Maybe I did,” mused Dick, contemplating the riddled 
bird. ‘‘ It looks to me, though, as if the charge flew through 
the woodcock. But I ain’t stuck up over it,” he added ; “ I’ll 
associate with you just the same ; of course, when I am talk- 
ing to old woodcock hunters, you can kind o’ keep in the 
background, but aside from that you may hunt with me 
just the same.” 

‘^Oh, go to bed and give us a rest,” was Thad’s only re- 
joinder, as he took the gun and started up the lake. 

Don’t you want me to kill any more woodcocks .? ” 
queried Dick, following after. 

‘‘You couldn’t kill another one in a year, and I want you 
to have something to brag about,” was the rejoinder. 

Mr. Kingston was sitting on a log when the boys came up, 
and his first remark was : “ Well, boys, what luck } ” 

One duck and a woodcock,” replied Dick, taking the birds 
from the bag. 

“ Ah, this was what you were shooting at along the shore,” 
said Mr. Kingston, picking up the badly shattered woodcock. 
“You hit him pretty hard, Thad.” 

“ Oh, I didn’t kill him ; it was Dick,” replied Thad. 

“Well, Dick, you must be pretty quick on the trigger to 
hit a woodcock.” 

“ It was an accidental shot ; I couldn’t hit another one in 
a month,” replied Dick, trying to look modest. 


62 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


‘'You can’t tell what you might do. The chances are, 
though, you would not hit them very often. Why didn’t you 
shoot at that last flock, Thad } ” 

“The gun wasn’t loaded. I didn’t suppose there were any 
more ducks around, so I was in no hurry to reload,” replied 
Thad. 

“That is another thing you must acquire the habit of 
doing. Always reload instantly after shooting either one 
or both barrels, whether there is game in sight or not ; then 
you are always ready for any emergency. Dozens of times 
in my younger days I have lost shots at game by not reload- 
ing promptly. Perhaps I would be standing upon the bank 
of a lake as we are, after firing my gun at some ducks. Not 
seeing any more ducks, I was in no hurry to reload ; then of 
course, if they were in the country, a big bunch of teal would 
come whizzing by about twenty yards away ; then I would 
hasten to reload, only to discover that I had missed the 
golden opportunity of the day. 

“ Again, I have waded out in a little rice pond, and, after 
jumping and shooting at a pair of mallards, stood looking at 
the scenery, not dreaming there was another duck within a 
quarter of a mile ; then perhaps another pair that had been 
sitting in the rice, apparently waiting for me to reload, 
would spring up and leisurely take their departure, with deri- 
sive quacks at my simplicity. I had no one to tell me these 
things, therefore I was forced to learn them by experience.” 

“You know more than I ever expect to about shooting,” 
said Dick, with a sigh. 

“Oh, no,” replied his father, “if you boys keep your eyes 
and ears open, and your wits about you, and try to learn, you 
will shoot nearly as well at eighteen as I do ; but remember 
that you cannot learn to be wing shots by pot-hunting.” 


TRYING THE NEW GUN 


63 


“What is pot-hunting?” queried Dick. 

“A pot-hunter, Dick, never shoots on the wing when he 
can get a sitting shot. He will crawl for half an hour on his 
stomach to get near a flock of game birds, and wait another 
half-hour for them to mass closely together, to get a raking 
shot into them. He goes out for all the meat he can get, 
and cares little how he obtains it. He will wipe out a 
huddled bevy of half -frozen quail with as little compunction 
as he would sweep a handful of flies off a counter.” 

“That wouldn’t be any fun for a person who can shoot 
woodcock flying,” said Dick, turning to Thad with aggravat- 
ing gravity. 

“No, I suppose not, and about next year woodcock will 
be too slow ; you will want chunks of greased lightning to 
shoot at,” replied Thad. 

At that instant Mr. Kingston uttered a low “ Sh — don’t 
move,” and the trio sat motionless on the log. 

The reason was apparent. A pair of wood-ducks were 
coming rapidly up the lake, and it was too late to gain the 
shelter of the trees. When they were nearly abreast, Dick 
wondered why his father did not shoot. After they had 
passed, he could hardly retain his seat upon the log. At 
that instant, however, Kingston seemed galvanised into life. 
The gun, which had been lying across his lap, came to his 
face as though sent by a steel spring, and like a flash swept 
after the speeding wild fowl. 

There was a double report, and both ducks lay drifting on 
the surface of the lake. 

“ That’s the time you pretty near forgot to shoot, I guess, 
papa. They were quite a little closer when they were right 
opposite,” said Dick, chuckling at his father’s apparent 
mistake. 


64 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Mr. Kingston smiled, and was about to reply, when they 
espied a boy coming from the north. 

It is George Ricker, of T . I wonder what he wants,” 

observed Thad. 

‘‘ Hello, George, what are you doing here V he said, as the 
boy came up. 

I have a telegram for your father,” replied young Ricker, 
handing the message to Mr. Kingston. 

The latter tore it open, and, after reading it, said : 

“ We will have to cut our hunt short, boys. I must take 

the three o’clock train to C ; my employers wish to see 

me at once in regard to getting some machinery contracts. 
Get the ducks out in the lake, Dick, and we will go 
home.” 

‘‘Boys,” said Mr. Kingston, as they wended their way 
across the bottoms, “ I will not be home until a week from 
next Saturday. The northern flight of blue-winged teal will 
probably be here before that time. When they come, go 
after them and see what you can do with your gun, and let 
me know how it performs when I return. I think it is safe 
to trust you with a gun now ; you seem to be careful and 
pretty level-headed.” 

Just then a crow flapped lazily along about fifty yards 
away. 

“There is a chance to unload your gun, Thad.” 

Thad fired both barrels, and at the last report the crow 
started on an incline toward the ground, cawing indignantly, 
but ere his crowship had descended twenty feet, Mr. Kings- 
ton caught him with both barrels, and doubled him up, 
dead. 

“ Always unload your gun when you come in from hunt- 
ing, either by shooting or drawing the charges. This is for 


TRYING THE NEW GUN. 65 

the double purpose of having it ready to clean, and not hav- 
ing a loaded gun in the house.” 

“ If the teal come while you are gone, we will show you 
how to kill ducks,” remarked Dick, as they walked up the 
hill. 


CHAPTER V. 


SHOOTING BLUE -WING TEAL, 


URRAH, Dick, the teal have come ! ” shouted Thad, 



A A the Saturday morning following the one on which he 
had received the new gun. 

How do you know ? Where are they ? ” inquired Dick, 
eagerly, coming quickly to his brother’s side on the porch 
overlooking the river and bottoms. 

‘‘ Look down there,” said Thad, pointing out on the 
bottoms. 

Dick looked in the direction indicated, and soon saw sev- 
eral flocks of blue-winged teal flying restlessly up and down 
the various lakes on the bottoms, their blue wings flashing 
in the sunlight as they dashed up and down, here and there, 
anon wheeling sharply across the mowed ground to a distant 
pond. 

^‘Sure enough, they are here, and lots of them. You 
know it rained nearly all night, last night, and papa told us 
they would come with the first cool rain,” said Dick, his face 
lighting up with animation. 

Well, don’t let’s stand here with our mouths open, like 
a couple of ninnies, gazing at them ; let’s get after them,” 
cried Thad, impatiently, dashing into the house. 

Dick followed, and a powwow of getting ready ensued 
that would have aroused enthusiasm in the most phlegmatic 
sportsman. 


66 


SHOOTING BLUE - WING TEAL, 


67 


Coats, hats, rubber boots, shot-pouch, powder-flask, etc., 
were donned, and the boys were out of the house in a 
twinkling. 

‘‘Wait a minute till I load the gun,” said Thad, suiting 
the action to the word. 

Dick stood with his hands in his pockets, whistling softly, 
and watched the process of pouring in ammunition, thump- 
ing, pounding, etc., with a critical eye. 

Finally he remarked, with solemn mien, “ Don’t make a 
mistake this time, or I shall have to take charge of the gun 
myself.” 

“ Don’t you worry, just keep quiet, and you will have no 
occasion to take charge of the gun ; come on, now,” and 
away they went. 

As they were leaving the yard, Mrs. Kingston came to 
the door, and said, “ Will you get back for dinner, boys ? ” 

“ Yes, of course ; we will have all the ducks we can carry 
long before noon,” replied Thad, half turning his head, and 
the boys disappeared down the steep bluff road. 

They trudged along in the cool September sunshine, filled 
with the exuberant joy that comes only to boys of that age. 

As they passed out upon the rain-soaked meadows, Dick, 
who was ever on the alert, cried out, “Jupiter, look at the 
ducks, just look at them!” at the same time nearly dislo- 
cating his arm in trying to point it farther toward a closely 
massed bunch of a couple of hundred teal, skipping across 
the bottoms a quarter of a mile distant. 

“Yes, and look there, and there,” said Thad, with glisten- 
ing eyes, pointing in the direction of several flocks following 
the first. 

“We’ve struck it just right to-day, haven’t we.^* Hurry 
up them sawed-off legs of yours.” 


68 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Thad was taller than most boys of his age, and, in his 
eagerness to get to where the ducks were flying, measured 
nearly a yard at each stride, forcing Dick’s short legs to beat 
a lively tattoo on the spongy ground. 

However, with walking and trotting, he managed to keep 
within talking distance. Presently his active brain evolved 
a brilliant idea, and he called out, Say, Thad, let’s give 
papa a surprise.” 

“ How ” inquired Thad, slackening his pace to let Dick 
come alongside. 

‘‘ Why, you know papa thinks we can’t hit anything flying. 
Let’s show him that some folks don’t have to shoot till they 
are gray-headed before they can hit ducks on the wing. I 
have an idea that papa was joking us the other day when he 
told how hard ducks were to kill flying. Maybe he thought 
we were a couple of young greenhorns, and he would make 
it appear harder than it really was, so we wouldn’t be disap- 
pointed.” 

I don’t believe papa would fool us that way purposely,” 
replied Thad; “but, at the same time, I think he is a little 
mixed about it being so hard for us to learn to shoot flying. 
The way I figure it is this : when papa was a boy, guns did 
not shoot the way they do now, and ammunition was so 
costly that he used very light loads, and because he couldn’t 
kill much with them he has always thought the fault was his, 
instead of the gun and ammunition ; and he thinks, because it 
took him a long while to get so he could kill anything with 
the old pot-metal guns they used in those days, that we will 
have to go through the same experience now.” 

After delivering himself of these sage remarks, Thad 
nodded toward his brother with the air of a person who has 
solved a difficult problem to his entire satisfaction. 


SHOOTING BLUE -WING TEAL. 


69 


Dick was profoundly impressed with this bit of philosophy, 
pleasantly so, too, as it removed a large part of the bugbear 
of learning to shoot on the wing. 

Well, wedl just fool papa, won’t we ” he cried, exult- 
antly, shying a bit of turf at a big, melancholy, sad-eyed 
grasshopper that was clinging to a resinweed, evidently 
reflecting on the folly of his summer’s dissipation. 

‘^Another thing,” continued Thad, “I don’t believe papa 
had the least idea that we would ever get a chance to shoot 
at such big flocks as these ; why, I believe I can kill eight or 
ten at a shot out of a flock as big as that one,” and he 
pointed to a whizzing cloud of blue-wings in the distance. 

“You see it’s different with you and me learning to shoot 
flying from what it is with most boys ; you know I killed a 
duck flying, last fall, and one the other day, and you killed a 
woodcock ; and every one of these was single birds, too, mind 
you, not big flocks like these, so I don’t see what’s to hinder 
us from killing ducks right along. The way we have both 
been shooting so far, it looks as though it wasn’t going to be 
so hard for us to learn to shoot flying as it is for most boys.’^ 

“Just what I think exactly, and I don’t see what’s to 
hinder us from killing forty or fifty ducks to-day, do you ? ” 
said Dick, with emphasis. 

“No ; in fact I have been thinking, ever since we started, 
that we would get that many, but I didn’t say anything.” 

“You have.?” 

“ Yes ; fifty isn’t many in a flight like this ; it wouldn’t sur- 
prise me a bit if we got a good many more than that.” 

“Jiminy! suppose we should kill a hundred,” squealed 
Dick, excitedly. 

“Like as not we can. We’ll try, anyhow,” replied Thad. 

“ Gee Whittaker ! A hundred ducks, think of it ! Won’t 


70 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


papa’s eyes stick out when he comes home and finds we 
have killed a hundred ducks in a few hours ? Hurrah ! ” 

Here Dick’s feelings got the better of him, and he was 
forced to stop and turn a handspring to work off his surplus 
energy. 

The boys pressed on with feverish impatience, their imag- 
ination running riot among the ducks. 

Presently Dick broke out again. 

Say, Thad, we can’t ever carry a hundred ducks. How 
in the world will we get them home } ” 

‘‘ That’s easy ; one of us will go back to the house and get 
Uncle John and the light wagon, and the other stay here 
and kill more' ducks.” 

That’s so, I hadn’t thought of that ; but say, what will 
we do with so many } ” 

“ Salt ’em down for winter,” replied Thad, trium- 
phantly. 

Good ; great head you have ; and we must tell mamma 
to keep mum, and when papa comes home we’ll make believe 
we didn’t have much luck, and we’ll inquire about how to 
aim, and ask him why he supposed we couldn’t hit the big 
flocks, and kind o’ act down in the mouth generally ; and 
then we’ll get him out to the wood-shed, and be standing 
around talking, and one of us will lift the top off the barrel 
as though he didn’t know what was in it and say, ‘ Hello, 
what’s in here } ’ Gee ! won’t papa’s eyes open when he sees 
a barrel of ducks all salted down, ready for winter ! ” 

“Good scheme, just what we’ll do,” replied Thad, nodding 
approvingly toward Dick. 

Here the latter’s imagination rose to such exhilarating 
heights that he stopped and executed a short war-dance, 
winding up with a handspring and alighting with a splash in 


SHOOTING BLUE ~ WING TEAL. /I 

a tiny pool of water left by the recent rains, throwing little 
sheets of spray in all directions. 

When he again trotted alongside of Thad, he inquired, 
eagerly : 

“ Where will we go. Long Lake ? ” 

'‘No, I think Long Lake is more of a wood-duck lake. 
Anywhere on the bottoms I guess is good enough, they seem 
to be flying everywhere ; there goes a couple of flocks down 
Willow Lake now, let’s go there first.” 

Willow Lake was merely a long rice-pond, fringed with 
rushes, and dotted with lily-pads. 

It was one of three ponds connected by a narrow, rush- 
fringed run a few yards in width. This one of the trio of 
ponds was two or three hundred yards long, and about sixty 
yards across between the rush line at the widest part, with a 
ten-yard fringe of rushes along the shore. 

About the middle of the lake, on the east shore, grew a 
clump of willows ; hence its name. 

“We had better get in those willows. Then we can shoot 
out over the lake, and the wind will blow the ducks ashore,” 
said Thad. 

“ Hully gee ! look at that big flock going down the lake. 
If we were only in the willows now, we could kill a dozen. 
We’ll show papa how to shoot ducks, won’t we ? Oh, there 
goes another flock.” 

“Hurry up, then,” cried Thad, scarcely less excited than 
his brother. 

Both boys took a run for the clump of willows, and 
dropped into them, panting and exhausted. 

“ Keep a sharp watch,” said Thad, as soon as he could get 
his breath. 

“ Here comes some,” cried Dick, as a large bunch of blue- 


72 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


winged teal came dashing down the centre of the lake 
toward them. 

“Get ready now,” he warned, squirming about in the 
rushes. 

Like most young and inexperienced shooters, Thad began 
to get his gun into position before the oncoming teal were 
within fifty yards of abreast of their blind, and by the time 
the birds were fairly opposite our youthful wild-fowler had 
followed them so long that his arm ached. 

Aiming at the centre of the flock, he pulled the trigger. 

At the report, both boys looked eagerly out over the water, 
fully expecting to see the surface strewn with dead ducks, 
but the fleet-winged birds dashed on down the lake without 
leaving one solitary straggler dead or dying to tell a tale 
of slaughter. 

Only the few scattered lily-pads, flapping idly in the 
light breeze, tipped up their broad, fanlike leaves as though 
making a grimace at Thad for his poor shooting. 

The boys could hardly believe their eyes. 

“ Why in the world didn’t you kill some } ” said Dick, in 
astonishment gazing at the lily leaves out in the middle of 
the lake, in the vain hope of seeing a dead teal floating upon 
the water. 

“ I don’t know,” replied Thad, greatly perplexed. I aimed 
right at the centre of the flock. I thought I was sure of at 
least half a dozen.” 

“ So did I,” said Dick, looking longingly after the vanish- 
ing wild fowl. 

“Where do you suppose I could have shot.?” asked Thad, 
preparing to reload. 

“You was probably afraid the gun would kick, and shut 
both eyes, and shot about ten feet over them,” said Dick, 





“AIMING AT THE CENTRE OF THE FLOCK, HE PULLED THE TRIGGER 




SHOOTING BLUE -WING TEAL. 73 

kicking his toe against a bunch of rushes, as he shuffled 
about restlessly, watching Thad pound away at the powder. 

“ I didn’t do any such thing. I saw them just as plainly 
as I see you,” replied Thad, indignantly. 

‘‘ Well, you missed them just the same. Hurry up and load, 
and let me try. I see I’ll have to kill the ducks. I could 
have killed a couple out of that flock with a rock.” 

Here, take the gun if yon are such a great shot ; see 
what you can do,” said Thad, handing his brother the 
reloaded gun. 

“ Here comes a flock in at the upper end now. Let’s see if 
you can do any better.” 

A goodly bunch came swiftly down the lake, and Dick 
began to make great preparations for their reception. 

He squirmed around, poked the gun through the tops of 
the rushes, and took aim at them before they were near the 
blind. 

“ Gee, won’t I knock ’em ! ” he whispered, sighting along 
the barrels at the coming ducks. 

“ Don’t you think you would kill more if the gun was 
cocked } ” said Thad, quietly, as he watched Dick’s manoeuvres. 

The latter raised his head very quickly, and, sure enough, 
the hammers reposed at the half-cock notch. 

With a very sheepish look he cocked both barrels just as 
the teal went by. 

Pointing the gun in the direction of the swiftly moving 
birds, he pulled both triggers ; but, to his great chagrin, he 
failed to score, and the puzzling wild fowl swept on unharmed. 

“ There, smarty, now are you satisfied that you can’t 
shoot any better than I can ? You thought because you 
accidentally killed a woodcock flying that you could hit 
ducks,” said Thad, as he took the gun and began to reload. 


74 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ Maybe the gun isn’t any good. Gee, how it kicked ! ” said 
Dick, rubbing his shoulder, and ignoring his brother’s remarks. 

“The gun’s all right, it’s us greenhorns not knowing how 
to shoot,” replied Thad, as he pushed down the powder wads 
and thumped them two or three times vigorously. 

“There, she’s ready; now I’ll see what I can do.” 

“ Down ! Get down quick ! Here’s a million right on 
top of us,” squealed Dick, excitedly, grasping Thad by the 
arm and dropping into the rushes. 

Thad followed suit just as an immense flock of teal, with 
the soft rustling of myriads of wings, dropped into the water, 
their plump bodies throwing up tiny showers of spray as 
they splashed into the lake, the nearest of them not twenty 
yards from the blind, where they sat gracefully erect and on 
the alert for possible danger. 

“ Hully gee! We’ll kill a hundred,” whispered Dick, 
shrilly, hardly able to contain himself in the excitement of 
the moment. 

“We won’t get over a hundred. I didn’t finish loading,” 
replied Thad, grimly. 

“ Ain’t the shot in } ” 

“No. When you pulled me down, you spilled the first 
charger full.” 

“ Can’t you finish now ” asked Dick, doing his best to 
hold himself together as he peered through the rushes. 

“ I don’t believe I can. The rushes are so thin they will 
see us, but I’ll try,” answered Thad, detaching a charge of 
shot and pouring it into the right-hand barrel, as he lay 
upon the grass. 

But scores of sharp eyes were watching at all points of 
the compass, and some of them very quickly discovered sus- 
picious movements among the willows. 


SHOOTING BLUE -WING TEAL. 


75 


Being new arrivals, they were wild and restless, and in a 
twinkling a note of alarm rippled over the flock like a wave. 
A few quick, energetic half-turns of their plump bodies, 
and the whole mass took wing and fled down the lake. 

“ There they go. Shucks ! it’s too bad. We’ll never get 
another chance like that as long as we live,” said Dick, in a 
grieved tone, as he watched the rapidly departing teal. 

“ Too bad, but we can’t help it,” sighed Thad, as he arose 
to his feet and proceeded to finish loading. 

The boys scanned the bottoms in all directions. 

Hardly a moment but a bunch of teal could be seen skip- 
ping from one lake to another. 

Suppose we walk around and stretch our legs. Maybe 
we can find some feeding in another lake and get a sitting 
shot. There doesn’t seem to be any more coming in here 
just now,” said Thad, looking up and down the lake. 

This programme suited Dick to a dot. He wanted to be 
on the move and, incidentally, talking. The natural restless- 
ness of a boy of eleven could ill brook the quiet inactivity of 
a duck blind. 

As they marched across the mowed ground, dotted with 
haystacks made from the wild bottom grass, Thad caught 
sight of a bunch of blue-wings dropping below the rushes of 
a rice-pond just ahead. 

Cautiously they stole to the reedy margin, and wormed 
themselves through the rushes to the clear water, but no 
ducks were visible. 

Then they tramped to another pond. 

A flock of teal was there feeding, but the boys, as is 
usually the case, had grown careless, and the quick ears of 
the wild fowl detected their footsteps and voices as they 
crashed heedlessly through the rushes ; consequently, when 


76 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


our young duck hunters arrived at the edge of the clear 
water, the aggravating sight of a nice bunch of blue-wings 
just clearing the tops of the rushes on the opposite side met 
their gaze. 

“ I believe we make too much noise,” remarked Thad, 
sagely, as he stood watching the disappearing ducks. 

“I didn’t think we were making any noise,” said Dick, 
innocently, chewing industriously away on a big spear of 
sweet, juicy swamp grass. 

“ It don’t seem to take much noise to scare ducks,” replied 
Thad. 

For several hours the boys tramped around over the 
bottoms, going from one rice-pond to another, but succeeded 
in getting no more shots. 

Ducks they saw in plenty, mostly blue-winged teal, but the 
wild fowl had little difficulty in keeping out of range. 

Finally, tired with the long tramp, Thad proposed they 
go back to Willow Lake and rest. Needless to remark, 
Dick’s short legs were tired enough to make him acquiesce 
readily. 

As they approached the clump of willows, being on a little 
higher ground, they looked up and down the middle of the 
lake to see if any ducks had dropped in during their absence ; 
but none were in sight, and the boys tramped wearily in 
among the willows. 

Dick flung himself upon the ground with the remark : 

Gee ! but I’m tired ; ain’t you ” 

A mighty flutter of wings answered his question, as an 
army of ducks took wing from the shore of the lake, some of 
them not twenty feet from the boys. 

Thad instinctively cocked the gun, and, raising to his 
shoulder, pointed it at the vanishing teal, but he was so 


SHOOTING BLUE- WING TEAL, 


77 


badly unnerved by the unexpected appearance of so many 
ducks that they were far away before he could decide where 
to shoot ; so he stood gazing helplessly after them as they 
broke up into bunches and scattered over the bottoms. 

Jiminy Crickets ! Don’t that beat everything ” remarked 
Dick, as he watched the array of wild fowl with open mouth. 

“That’s what we missed by not staying here instead of 
tramping around over the bottoms,” replied Thad, in a tone 
of deep disgust. 

“We can’t kill ducks. We will have to wait until papa 
comes home and shows us how,” he added, in a disheartened 
tone. 

Poor Thad. The writer of these lines can sympathise with 
him. 

He has tramped and hunted all day faithfully, where wild 
fowl were flying by thousands, and returned home at eve 
dragging a tired pair of youthful legs and perhaps one lone 
duck to show for it. 

However, the buoyancy of youth is hard to keep down. 

After the boys had rested awhile they felt better. 

Dick got up and looked in all directions. 

Pretty soon he cried : “Here comes a flock; now see if you 
can’t kill some.” 

Thad got ready, and as a stringing flock of teal passed, he 
fired at the thickest of them. 

Dick was watching, and he saw, to his utter astonishment, 
as the gun cracked, a teal tailing along several feet behind 
the main flock drop to the water with a splash. 

“ Hurrah ! I killed one ! ” shouted Thad, joyously, as he 
caught sight of a duck kicking on the water. 

“ Gee ! but that old gun scatters,” said Dick, impressively. 

“ How do you know .? ” asked Thad. 


78 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


‘‘Why, you killed a duck fifteen feet behind the flock, 
flying along all alone,” replied Dick. 

I did } ” said Thad, incredulously. 

Yes, I know it, because I saw him fall,” answered Dick. 

“Maybe,” he went on, “that is the reason why we didn’t 
kill anything before, the gun scatters so.” 

Thad shook his head dubiously, as he proceeded to reload. 

“ It don’t seem as though papa would buy that kind of a 
gun ; he is an old hunter, and he said he tried it at a target 
before he bought it, and it shot all right.” 

“Well, it must^'' persisted Dick, “or we would have killed 
some out of those other flocks.” 

The boys watched the dead teal slowly drifting toward 
shore for a time, and then, seeing no more ducks, they sat 
down again. 

In a few minutes they heard a splash, and, looking through 
the scattered rushes, saw a single teal sitting on the water 
not more than fifteen yards distant. 

“ Shoot his head off,” whispered Dick, forgetting all about 
the gun scattering. 

Thad raised his gun and, taking careful aim at the teal’s 
head, fired. Notwithstanding the murderously close range, 
the badly frightened fowl picked up its legs and wings, and 
went skimming down the lake apparently unharmed. 

“That settles it ; there is no use talking, I tell you some- 
thing is the matter with that gun,” said Dick, decidedly. 

“Just as soon as this duck drifts ashore, we will go home. 
I am plumb discouraged,” said Thad, looking ready to 
cry. 

When the teal had drifted to the fringe of rushes, Thad 
went out to get it. The water was not deep, but, unfortu- 
nately, a hidden muskrat run lay across his path, and of course 


SHOOTING BLUE - WING TEAL. 79 

he stepped into it and sat more or less gracefully down in the 
chilly water, up to his waist. 

“ Waugh ! It’s cold,” sputtered Thad, staggering to his feet. 

The words were hardly spoken when he missed his footing 
again, and took another hip bath in the lake. 

“ What are you trying to do out there ? take your Sunday 
bath ? If you are, wait till I go up to the house and get a 
towel and a cake of soap,” Dick called out, facetiously. 

don’t know what you call it, but I know it’s awful cold,” 
replied Thad, in a disgusted voice, as he picked up the teal 
and slowly waded out. 

Papa must get us another dog if we are going to hunt 
ducks. This isn’t any fun,” he grumbled, throwing down the 
duck and surveying his soaked garments ruefully. 

He is going to get another dog,” said Dick, as Thad 
doubled up his leg, and poured a hat full of cold water out of 
his inverted boot. I heard him tell mamma he was going to 
get some kind of a dog, — I think it was a setter, — but I 
didn’t hear him say when he would get it.” 

“ I’m glad he is going to get some kind of a dog, but we 
will never have another such a dog as old Jack. It’s a shame 
he had to be killed by a nasty old eagle. I’ll shoot every one 
of them I get a chance at,” said Thad, with a vengeful look 
across the bottoms toward the pond that was the scene of 
their adventure the preceding year. 

“ We’ll call ourselves the ^ Eagle Slayers,’ won’t we } ” 
said Dick, as they hurried home across the meadow. 

“ If we don’t shoot any better than we have at ducks 
to-day we had better call ourselves the ‘Eagle Missers,”’ 
replied Thad, as he let out another link in his long legs. 

“ Say, Thad, do you suppose the reason we missed so much 
to-day, was because you didn’t make the ramrod bounce out 


8o 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


of the barrel when you rammed the powder?” said Dick, 
suddenly, as they hurried along. 

“ No, I don’t believe that makes much difference ; you 
noticed papa didn’t load that way,” replied Thad. 

I didn’t know but maybe it might act different with 
boys,” remarked Dick. 

It’s probably the boys that act different,” observed 
Thad, sagely, and Dick let his idea go by the board. 

“ Where is that back load of ducks you were going to bring 
home ? ” inquired Mrs. Kingston, as the boys filed into the 
house about one o’clock. 

‘‘Please don’t ask questions, but give us our dinner; then 
we can talk. Is it ready ? ” said Dick, dropping inertly into 
the nearest chair, and beginning to divest himself of his 
hunting clothes. 

“ Yes, ready and waiting. Why, Thad, you are all wet ; 
how did that happen ? ” said his mother, as Thad pulled off 
his boots and exposed his wet socks and pants. 

“ Oh, Thad was wading around Willow Lake after a duck, 
and he had a collision with a muskrat run and got thro wed 
twice,” said Dick. 

“ Didn’t you get any ducks ? ” asked Mrs. Kingston, as 
Thad went to change his clothes. 

“ Only one teal that Thad scared to death ; but don’t waste 
any time, please get us something to eat. I don’t believe you 
know how hungry we are. I’m hollow clear down to my boots.” 

Mrs. Kingston soon had dinner on the table, and when 
Thad came down-stairs, in dry clothing, he found Dick seated 
at the table, heaping his plate with stewed chicken, potatoes, 
mashed turnips, etc., till it looked like the wreck of a 
box car. 

“ Beg your pardon for not waiting, Thad. I tried to, but 


SHOOTING BLUE - WING TEAL. 


8l 


my legs brought me right to the table. I suspect they are 
in league with my stomach,” said Dick, filling his mouth 
with viands. 

Don’t mention it ; I never saw you when your legs were 
not in league with your stomach, if there was anything to 
eat around,” replied Thad, seating himself opposite his brother. 

Why did you not get some ducks } I saw a great many 
flying on the bottoms,” asked Mrs. Kingston, as she watched 
the boys stow away edibles with the keen relish of hungry 
youths. 

“ There were thousands of ducks, and if I had taken a 
pocketful of rocks, I could have killed a nice mess. But you 
see Thad accidentally killed a duck flying the other day, and 
it made him so conceited that he imagined he could kill all 
the ducks on the bottoms, at three or four shots, and when 
he came to shoot, he discovered that he couldn’t hit a flock 
of windmills. Clear case of swelled head ; in fact, he had to 
wear his hat on one side of his head, going down on the 
bottoms. But the swelling has all gone down now ; his hat 
came down to his ears, coming back,” said Dick, depositing a 
quarter section of pie on his plate. 

You haven’t anything to brag about. Your head has been 
four sizes too big for you ever since you killed that wood- 
cock,” observed Thad. 

“ Another reason we didn’t get any ducks,” remarked Dick, 
was because Thad’s new gun isn’t any good ; it scatters all 
over the bottoms.” 

I don’t know about that,” said Thad, who, now that he 
had rested and refreshed the inner man, did not feel so blue. 
“ It looked that way by the shooting we did ; but perhaps it 
was our fault instead of the gun’s. I won’t condemn it until 
papa tries it on ducks.” 


82 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ If papa can kill ducks with that gun, he is a good one,” 
said Dick, between bites. 

“ Papa can do a lot of things that we can’t,” replied Thad, 
as he preempted a big piece of pie. 

‘‘ Oh, say, Thad, we forgot something ! ” said Dick, sud- 
denly, dropping his knife and fork, and staring across the 
table at his brother with a distressed look. 

What’s the matter ? ” asked Thad, alarmed at Dick’s look 
of despair. 

“We forgot to go after Uncle John and the light wagon,” 
replied Dick, screwing his features back to their normal shape, 
and resuming his gastronomical operations. 

“That’s so,” said Thad, looking greatly relieved, “and 
there is another thing we mustn’t forget.” 

“ What’s that ” 

“Take papa out to the woodshed, and show him that barrel 
of ducks.” 

“ What are you boys talking about Uncle John and a barrel 
of ducks for ? are you crazy ? ” inquired their mother, with a 
perplexed look. 

“We are not as crazy now as we were awhile ago. Dick 
figured out a scheme to fool papa, but it didn’t work,” 
replied Thad, grinning across the table at his brother. 

“ I notice that you fell in with the scheme pretty quick,” 
said Dick. 

“ Of course ; I supposed you knew what you were talking 
about.” 

“ If you had shot half as good as I figured, the scheme 
would have panned out all right. From the way you have 
been bragging about what great things you would do with 
that new gun, I supposed you could hit something, and I got 
fooled,” was Dick’s parting shot. 


CHAPTER VT. 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 



‘HE following Saturday morning, when the boys came 


down-stairs, Mr. Kingston’s first remark after greeting 
them was : “Well, boys, was there a good flight of teal, and 
did you get a chance at them ? ” 

“ Had you better tell him, or shall I ? ” inquired Dick, turn- 
ing to his brother. 

“ I guess you had better tell him. Your tongue is more 
glib than mine.” 

“ I guess I had, too. If you talk as wild as you shoot, 
papa never would find out the truth.” 

Then turning to his father, who had been a silent auditor 
of this bit of by-talk, Dick said : 

“ Yes, sir, the teal came last Saturday morning, and I wish 
to remark, in Thad’s behalf, that most of them have gone 
again.” 

“ It was lucky for you boys they came Friday night. So 
you went after them last Saturday ? ” 

“Yes, sir. That is, Thad did, and I went along to carry 
the game. You know I have no gun,” said Dick, in the 
meek, resigned tone of one who is bearing a cross. 

“ How many did you get ? ” asked Mr. Kingston, with a 
faint contraction of the eyelid, suggestive of a wink. 


84 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


‘‘We got — how many did we get, Thad? You ought to 
know, you did the shooting.” 

“ Oh, you needn’t lay it all on to me, you did a little shoot- 
ing yourself,” retorted Thad. 

“ We got just one teal, papa,” he continued, turning to his 
father. 

“ Only one teal. There couldn’t have been much of a 
flight,” said Mr. Kingston, in surprise. 

“ There wasn’t a duck less than eight million, was there, 
Thad } ” said Dick, emphatically. 

“ I don’t know how many, but the bottoms were full of 
them,” replied Thad. 

“What do you think was the reason for your lack of 
success } ” 

“ Because Thad’s gun isn’t any good,” replied Dick, sniff- 
ing hungrily at the appetising odour wafted in from the 
kitchen. 

“Thad’s gun no good.? That is strange. It shot all right 
at a target when I bought it, and it did good work the other 
day what little we tried it on game. There is something 
wrong somewhere. While we are waiting for breakfast, tell 
me how you shot, and where the ducks were, and how far 
away.” 

“ Why, you see,” said Thad, “when we saw how they were 
flying in the morning, we hurried down on the bottoms, and 
went to Willow Lake, and got in that bunch of willows so 
we could have a clear place to shoot over in front of us. 
The teal came by in flocks of from five to fifty, not more 
than thirty yards away, and I shot and shot, and Dick shot, 
but we couldn’t hit them.” 

“Yes, and Thad shot at a teal sitting on the water, not 
more than twice the length of this room, and he aimed right 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


85 


at its eye and never touched it ; and I say a gun 
that won’t kill a duck that far is no good ; and the teal he 
did kill was tailing along behind the flock about ten feet, 
so the gun must scatter all over the county,” chimed in 
Dick. 

Mr. Kingston looked at the boys a moment and then said, 
abruptly : 

“ How are the ducks now } Many flying ? ” 

“Yes, sir. The bottoms and river are full of them the 
last day or two, since this cold spell,” replied Thad. 

“Well, I’ll tell you what we will do,” said Mr. Kingston, 
his face lighting up with animation. “After breakfast we 
will get ready and go down on the bottoms. I will use 
Thad’s gun and he can take mine, and we will see if I can 
kill anything with it. I think I know the cause of your 
failure to get any more ducks. 

“ I intended to have given you some instructions the day 
we were out, but that boy coming with the message caused 
me to forget it. 

“You shot clean over that duck on the water, Thad. 
Your gun has an elevated rib, and shoots over at a short 
distance. When you shoot at anything close, remember 
to aim under a little.” 

“ It was a lucky thing for that teal’s health that we didn’t 
know about that the other day, wasn’t it ? ” remarked Thad 
to Dick. 

“ It was a lucky thing for^ the top of his head,” rejoined 
the latter, with a grin. 

“The way you manoeuvred with those flocks in Willow 
Lake was this : you saw the ducks coming, put the gun to 
your shoulder, and deliberately pointed it at the flock before 
they were near you ; you carried the gun along with the 


86 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


flock until they were passing, then pulled the trigger, aiming 
right at the centre of the bunch. Is that right } ” 

Yes, sir, but how did you know ? ” said Thad, in astonish- 
ment. 

‘‘Because I was there long ago, doing the same thing. 
You couldn’t pick out a surer way to miss ducks. 

“It is natural for a greenhorn, when he sees game ap- 
proaching, to begin to get ready, — get the gun to his shoulder 
and sight along the barrel at the coming birds. Especially is 
this true of wild fowl shooting on a pass. Then when the 
ducks are directly in front, an almost exact right angle shot, 
and one of the most difficult, they fire.” 

“ I thought the time to shoot was when a bird was the 
nearest to you,” said Thad. 

“ When a bird is within effective range, you don’t want it 
any nearer, as you have a bigger killing circle, and conse- 
quently less chance to miss. A right angle shot cuts 
squarely across the duck’s flight, and has the smallest possi- 
ble killing space. 

“ To illustrate : 

“ Here is a duck passing at thirty yards. Suppose thirty 
inches to be the effective diameter of the charge at that dis- 
tance ; so a flight of thirty inches is all the chance you have 
to hit the duck. 

“ Now let it get by, and the charge of shot cuts across its 
flight diagonally and requires more time for the duck to pass 
through it. 

“The farther you let the duck get past, the sharper the 
angle, and the longer the bird is in passing through the 
charge.” 

^ As Mr. Kingston talked, he drew with paper and pencil 
the line of a duck’s flight. Then he drew two diverging lines 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


87 


from the muzzle of the gun at right angles with its flight. 
Then two more at a sharper angle, and, lastly, two at a very 
acute angle. 

“Do you catch the idea, boys } ” 

“Yes, sir,” was the answer from both. 

“ Now I will show you where you missed those ducks. 

“ When they were in front of you and consequently at right 
angles, you unconsciously stopped the gun, and pressed the 
trigger. 

“The ducks were whizzing along swiftly, and had gone 
many feet before the shot left the muzzle of the gun. Then, 
at the distance you were shooting, they went at least three 
feet more while the charge was travelling from the gun to 
the ducks ; so your charge of shot, instead of going through 
the flock as you intended, passed way behind it.” 

“ Simple as t-y ty, ain’t it } And that is the explanation 
of your killing that teal so far behind that flock,” said Dick. 

“Yes, I see it now. What we don’t know about shooting 
ducks flying would fill a pretty big book,” replied Thad. 

“What papa does know would fill a bigger one,” said 
Dick, in admiration of his sire’s knowledge. 

“ I thought a charge of powder and shot was the same as 
lightning, it was there as soon as it started,” said Thad. 

“It lacks a good deal of being lightning,” replied Mr. 
Kingston. 

“Lightning travels about two hundred thousand miles a 
second, and a charge of shot about one thousand feet in 
that time.” 

“ I wish we had had a couple of quarts of lightning the 
other day instead of powder. We might have singed the tail 
feathers of some of those ducks,” said Dick. 

“Always remember this, when shooting at flying birds,” 


88 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


said Mr. Kingston. “ Never point your gun at a bird until 
ready to shoot. Then press the trigger the instant you see 
the bird over the barrels. 

‘‘And never shoot a right-angle shot at rapidly moving 
game, if there is a chance to get a shot at an acute angle 
within killing distance. 

“ The chances for wounding a bird, instead of killing it, are 
much greater in a right-angle shot, for the reason I gave 
you a moment since, — the diameter of the killing circle is so 
much less. 

“ The shooter is supposed to have skill enough to throw 
the charge near the bird, and a charge of shot that would 
only wound a bird with a few outside pellets, at right 
angles, would have killed the bird at an acute angle, if 
thrown with the same skill, on account of the bird having 
farther to fly to pass through the charge.” 

Here Mrs. Kingston announced breakfast, and Mr. Kingston 
said as he arose : “ I will flnish the lecture on the bottoms.” 

After breakfast Mr. Kingston stepped outside, and in a 
few moments the door opened and he walked in, followed by 
a shaggy-coated setter. 

“ Here, boys, is another partner I have brought you to 
share in your hunting trips. He is an English setter, not 
quite three years old ; steady as a clock ; a fine retriever 
on land or water, and thoroughly broken on prairie chicken, 
woodcock, and quail. He belonged to a friend of mine who 
is not in a position to hunt much at present, and, upon my 
telling him that you boys were learning to shoot, he told 
me to bring this fellow to you as a present, with instructions 
to be kind to him, and he would be a faithful ally wherever 
you put him. How do you like the looks of him } does he 
suit you, Thad } ” 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


89 


“Yes, siree! To a dot,” said Thad, emphatically; “and 
if he is a woodcock dog, of course he will suit Dick,” giving 
the latter a nudge in the ribs. 

“ If he will only keep you out of the muskrat holes, and 
stop your wrestling with the muskrats, he will be all right,” 
returned Dick. 

“ What is his name } ” asked Thad. 

“Bruno.” 

At the sound of his name, the intelligent animal looked 
up into Mr. Kingston’s face and gave two or three respon- 
sive wags of his bushy tail, and then looked wistfully at the 
breakfast-table. 

“ Beg your pardon, old fellow. Of course you are hungry ; 
want to eat your breakfast first and get acquainted with 
the boys afterward, don’t you ? That’s sensible ; you shall 
have it at once.” 

A generous breakfast disposed of, and Bruno quietly 
reclined upon the floor and watched with grave mien but 
shining eyes the warlike preparations; for he was not one 
of your nervous, back-wiggling, restless type of dogs, but 
a calm, steady, sedate, deep-chested fellow, from whom all 
nonsense had been eliminated. A sort of canine “ Uncle 
Tom,” he lived but to perform his duty to his master, to 
the best of his ability. 

It was a raw day in late October ; heavy cold-looking 
clouds canopied the morning sky and hung like a gray 
blanket over the landscape. A dreary enough day to most 
people, but one that sent the blood bounding through the 
veins of the enthusiastic wild-fowler; for he knew the ducks 
would be restless and on the wing. 

Under the forest-trees the loom of Nature was busily 
weaving a carpet of mosaics from the circling, eddying leaves. 


90 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Butternut and walnut trees, stripped of their foliage, still 
held bushels of nuts in their naked arms, reminding one, 
as Thad expressed it, of the picture of the human figure in 
the school physiology. 

“ Where are you going, papa } ” inquired Thad, as they came 
out on the bottoms. 

“ Somewhere along the Willow Lake chain of lakes will 
be the best place this morning, I think. It is one of the best 
fly ways on the bottoms, and the ducks will be moving to-day, 
it is so raw and cloudy.” 

“ Why don’t you go in that bunch of willows where we 
went last week ? ” asked Dick. 

“Not a good place, Dick ; it is too wide there. Always go 
to the end of a lake instead of the side.” 

“ Why } ” asked Dick. 

“ Because ducks follow the water. They will dart into a 
lake and follow it to the head or foot, according to the 
direction of their flight. If another lake or chain of lakes 
is beyond, they will generally follow them all. If you stand 
at the side, they may dart into the lake beyond you, in the 
direction they are going, and you miss a chance at them. 
Others may pass you, but close to the other shore, and too 
far away to shoot ; but they all converge at the end of the 
lake and follow the narrow run to the next lake.” 

Nearing Willow Lake, ducks could be seen in all direc- 
tions ; some a few feet above the grass or water ; some 
two or three gunshots high ; while others were floating 
along at such an altitude that they appeared as a slender 
thread of black against the background of gray scudding 
clouds. 

“ Let us go in here awhile, until we see where the main 
flight is,” said Mr. Kingston, walking into the rushes a few 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


91 

yards below the south end of Willow Lake, and along the 
edge of the narrow run that connected the lakes. 

‘‘ It is dry here, we can sit on the ground, the rushes are 
short ; it looks as though we would get all varieties of ducks. 
You can lie here, Bruno. You wanted to get after those 
jack-snipe pretty bad, didn’t you } But you see we were 
loaded for ducks ; good fellow, not to insist upon it,” and 
Kingston gave the intelligent animal a friendly pat on the 
head. 

“ Oh, here comes one, papa, get down quick,” said Dick, 
pointing up the lake. 

A single mallard drake came swiftly down the run. 

Mr. Kingston waited until it was several yards past, then, 
throwing up his gun, he swung it swiftly after the drake and 
killed it dead in the air. 

‘‘Bruno, go and get your first duck for us,” he said, point- 
ing in the direction it had fallen. 

As Bruno started obediently after the mallard, Mr. King- 
ston said : “ Dick, let me instruct you and Thad how to act 
while watching for ducks and geese. 

“ In the first place, never throw up your arm suddenly and 
point toward them, as they are sharp-sighted and will notice 
a quick movement a long distance if looking in your 
direction. 

“ If shooting with somebody and you wish to warn them of 
the approach of game, simply give one low whistle, and 
utter the one word, “ south ” or “north,” or whatever the 
direction may be the game is coming from. 

“ If you chance to be standing in plain view for a few 
moments and suddenly discover ducks or geese coming, 
almost within gunshot, don’t flop down in your blind, as 
they will surely see your quick movements. 


92 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ Stand perfectly still ; don’t move a muscle, and frequently 
they will take you for a stump or some inanimate object and 
keep coming. Can you remember these things } ” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Thad, while Dick’s answer was a low 
whistle, and the one word, “ North.” 

All looked, and sure enough, a half dozen ducks were 
coming down the lake. 

“ Do you want to shoot, Thad } ” asked his father. 

“You had better try my gun again,” was the reply. 

The ducks whizzed by one behind the other, and when 
they were about as far past as the previous mallard, Mr. 
Kingston threw up his gun. 

Both barrels cracked this time, in quick succession, and 
two ducks left the bunch and tumbled headlong into the 
run. 

“ Here comes Bruno with the mallard,” said Dick, delight- 
edly, as the dog parted the rushes and walked into the 
blind, dropping the duck at their feet. 

“That fellow has been trained right. See, he carried 
the duck by the wing instead of the body.” 

“Good boy, Bruno. There are two more in the same 
place you may get,” said Mr. Kingston, giving his four-footed 
friend an approving pat on the head. 

While Bruno was retrieving the two ducks, Mr. Kingston 
turned to Dick and said : “ Well, Dick, are you satisfied now 
that Thad’s gun is some good "i ” 

“Yes, sir. It was us numskulls not knowing how to 
shoot,” replied the latter, laughing. 

“I thought there was a screw loose somewhere, all the 
time,” said Thad. 

“You take your gun now and try the next flock,” sug- 
gested Kingston, handing Thad his gun. 


FIRST INS TR UC TIONS. 9 3 

I’m a little bashful, after seeing such shooting,” laughed 
the latter, as the two exchanged guns. 

“Nonsense, my boy. You can’t learn until you try,” 
replied his father. 

“ What kind of ducks are these last two } ” asked Dick, 
as Bruno laid the last one down in the blind. 

“ Bluebills,” replied his father, “ although ‘ cubhead ’ is 
the common name, in this section. Here comes a flock, 
Thad. Don’t raise your gun until they pass ; then throw 
it after them, and as you pass the leader, pull the trigger.” 

The boy did as he was told, as near as possible. At the 
report of the gun, one of the hindmost birds left the flock 
and sailed down in a slanting direction on the mowed 
ground. 

“ Wing tipped. Can you get him, Bruno ” 

The dog had watched the duck go down, and looking up 
in Mr. Kingston’s face with an expression of confidence, 
started across the run and out over the bottoms. 

In a few minutes he came across the run with the duck 
in his mouth. 

Walking into the space of trampled down rushes, he stood 
expectantly holding the bird in his mouth, and looking up 
at Mr. Kingston, seemed to say : “ It is only wounded ; 
what do you want to do with it ” 

“ Do you notice he doesn’t drop this duck on the ground 
as he did the others } ” said Kingston, taking the bird from 
the dog’s mouth and wringing its neck. 

“ Why don’t he } ” inquired Dick. 

“ Because he knows it is only wounded and might get 
away. He is a jewel, and you boys are in great luck to get 
him.” 

Then turning to Thad, he said: “You stopped your gun 


94 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


before you pulled the trigger. That is the reason you hit 
the hind duck with the edge of the charge.” 

“ I don’t know ; I suppose so,” replied the latter, as he 
finished reloading. 

^‘You cannot expect to catch the knack at first. Your 
hands and eye have not been trained to work together. 
That is the first thing you want to learn ; get the eye, the 
trigger finger, and the left arm to working in unison. That 
is what is called ‘ a sympathy between the eye and the 
hand,’ and when you have that sympathy fully established, 
you have the main secret of wing shooting learned. It is 
more difficult for some to learn than others. You see the 
eye glances along the level of the rib, while the left arm 
bears the gun swiftly toward the game, and the instant you 
see it over the barrel, the trigger-finger must press the 
trigger instantly and release the charge. 

‘‘The greatest difficulty to overcome is the tendency to stop 
the gun and then pull the trigger. This must not be done, 
as it is the main cause of the numberless misses on angle shots. 

“ On straightaways, such as you will often get on prairie- 
chicken, pheasant, jack-snipe, quail, and sometimes on ducks, 
the gun is simply thrown to the shoulder, elevated to the 
height of the bird, and the trigger pulled.” 

A low whistle, and the word, “ North ” came from Dick. 

“ Try them again, Thad.” 

A single bluebill went past them, down the run. Thad’s 
gun came up ; a sharp report followed, and the duck went 
end over end into the water and rushes. 

“That was a fine shot. You are learning fast,” said 
Kingston, with a pleased smile. 

“ Let me try and see if I can stop those gentlemen,” said 
Dick. 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


/ , 95 

“Take my gun and try them,” said Th^, handing his 
brother the gun. \ 

Wild fowl were flying everywhere and they had not long 
to wait ; a pair of bluebills were espied coming down the run. 

“Take your time, Dick. It doesn’t take long to throw up 
your gun and shoot when they get where you want them,” 
said Mr. Kingston, as he saw Dick moving uneasily, and 
begin to get his gun into position. 

Thus admonished, Dick kept himself under control until the 
ducks were fairly opposite. But as Thad remarked, they had 
not got by more than six inches, before Dick’s gun went up 
and he smashed away at them. 

“You failed to connect that time, Dick,” announced Thad, 
as the ducks went on with increased speed. 

“ You shot too soon,” said Kingston, as Thad was re- 
loading. 

“ I know it,” replied Dick, in a tone of disgust, “ I got in 
too big a hurry ; but I’ll keep at it till I do learn,” he added, 
determinedly. 

Ducks kept streaming past every few minutes, and the 
boys were kept busy, shooting turn about ; for Mr. Kingston 
let them do most of the shooting. Occasionally he would 
take a shot, just to show them how it was done, and he rarely 
failed to kill his bird dead in the air. 

Both boys made a great many misses and a few very 
pretty kills, besides wounding a number. A wounded duck 
was hailed with delight by Bruno, as it gave him an oppor- 
tunity to exercise and keep warm, by racing over the bottoms 
after it. 

“Boys,” said Mr. Kingston as the flight eased up a little, 
“there is one kind of a shot that you want to shoot in a 
peculiar manner.” 


96 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“What is that?” inquired Thad. 

“A low, straight incomer; where they are just above the 
rushes and coming almost straight at your head. I have 
discovered that the surest and most satisfactory way to kill 
them is when they are coming head on, although it is con- 
trary to all rules and traditions governing duck shooting. 
The reason for shooting them in that position is because they 
are generally flying very swiftly, and if you wait for them to 
get past, a single false move, and they are out of range. 
Also, if you shoot them coming in, they fall almost at your 
feet and are much easier to retrieve, besides having the 
pleasure of seeing them turn about fifty somersaults. Re- 
member to hold a little low on them, if your gun shoots high 
at a short distance. Some shooters cannot get the hang of 
shooting that way, but I think the trouble is, they shoot 
over, as the bird is very close ; it is almost a dead shot for 
me.” 

“ I saw a pair come at the head of the lake just a moment 
ago, and I didn’t see them light ; I wonder where they are,” 
remarked Dick. 

“ Here they come on this side, just above the rushes ; the 
shot I have been describing. Keep quiet and I will show 
you what I mean.” 

A pair of green-wing teal came swiftly over the rushes, a 
couple of feet apart, flying neck and neck, like an evenly 
matched pair of trotters. 

The teal were not more than twenty-five yards away, when 
Kingston’s gun cracked twice with such rapidity that the 
reports almost blended as one, and both teal whirled into 
the rushes, but a few yards from their feet. 

“ Gee, but I should say you were quick on the trigger ; 
you’re quick on both triggers,” said Dick, admiringly. 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


97 


Y ou will be as quick as I, perhaps quicker, after a few 
years’ practice,” was his father’s reply, as he rapidly reloaded. 

Soon after, Mr. Kingston proposed that they walk around 
a bit to warm up, and the trio took in several small rice-lakes, 
one of them being the small lake where poor Jack was killed 
the previous year. 

They routed ducks out in nearly every place they visited, 
and bagged a mallard, a ringneck, and a pair of gadwells, 
before they returned to their original stand along the run. 

It was almost noon, and the sun was coquetting from 
behind the clouds, threatening to dispel them entirely. 

The flight of wild fowl had eased up, as it generally does 
near the noon hour, when suddenly the ears of our hunters 
were greeted by the hissing rush of wings high up in the air. 

Mr. Kingston knew the cause instantly, and looking 
around, he pointed out to the boys, two birds coming over 
the bottoms, swift as a flash of light. 

“ Oh, there are two birds flying a race ! ” cried Dick. 

“ You are right, Dick, and it is a race for blood, too ; no 
fear of either contestant selling that race,” replied his father, 
grimly. 

“ What are they ? ” asked Thad. 

“ It is a hawk, trying to capture a duck for dinner.” 

“The hawk is going to get his dinner, sure,” said Dick, as 
he saw the distance rapidly decrease between the birds. 

“ I don’t know about it ; it is an even bet whether he does 
or not,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

“ I don’t see how the duck can get away ; even if it gets 
to Willow Lake it won’t have time to light and dive, before 
the hawk has it,” remarked Thad, watching the fleeing birds 
with intense interest. 

The hawk was perhaps a hundred feet behind its quarry 


98 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS, 


when first sighted, and every stroke of its long, powerful 
wings carried it nearer to the terrified, madly fleeing 
fowl. 

Straight as a bullet, and almost as swift, the duck, frantic 
with fear, headed for the lake ; but such was the hawk’s 
speed that it was not ten feet behind, when the persecuted 
fowl, without slackening its speed in the least, struck the 
water like a pile-driver and disappeared from view. 

“What do you think now.? You noticed it didn’t take 
that duck long to light,” observed Mr. Kingston, with a 
smile. 

“ It didn’t stop to light ; it flew right into the water,” said 
Thad, in amazement. 

“ Jiminy Crickets ! I’ll bet every bone in that duck’s 
body is mashed,” said Dick, in astonishment, as the hawk, 
skimming the water where its quarry had disappeared, swept 
upward with a graceful curve, and went on over the Iowa 
bluffs, apparently as unconcerned as though it had been 
engaging in a friendly race. 

“ Don’t you worry about that duck’s health ; it is all right. 
I have seen the same thing many a time, although the duck 
doesn’t always get away ; it all depends on whether it can 
reach the water in time,” replied his father. 

While they were talking, the recently pursued duck 
appeared upon the surface of the water, and seeing the 
coast clear, swam in to the rushes. 

“ There is your mashed duck safe and sound,” said King- 
ston, pointing to it. 

“ How in the world do they stand the terrific shock of 
striking the water so hard .? ” asked Thad. 

“ I suppose it is on the same principle that a man puts his 
hands together above his head and dives from a height. 



BLACK -WINGED HAWK. 



FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


99 


“ The bill and neck are held rigid and cleave the water like 
a knife, softening the blow to the body. I have seen them 
strike the water within fifty feet of me, when a hawk was 
after them ; but if they cannot get to water, the hawk will 
get them every time. 

The most even race I ever saw was between a hawk and a 
wild pigeon, years ago. They were two or three hundred 
yards high, and the air fairly cracked as they went over me. 
I never knew how the race came out, as they were still 
going the last I saw of them.” 

Soon after, the sun dispelled the gray blanket of clouds 
entirely, adding materially to the comfort of the hunters, but 
also diminishing the flight of wild fowl by making them less 
restless and prone to fly. 

Boys,” said Mr. Kingston, as they sat basking in the 
pleasant sunshine, “ you mustn’t think this kind of shooting 
is all there is to learn. This is but a small part of it. You 
will shoot in timber, brush, and tall rushes, where you cannot 
swing the gun, and you will get every possible angle ; you 
will shoot standing in slippery mud and water ; in rain, snow, 
and sunshine. Under all of these circumstances, it is the 
man who has the most accurate judgment, and is the quick- 
est on the trigger ; who keeps the coolest head in any kind 
of shooting ; who makes his mind up instantly what to do, 
and does it, that is the best sportsman, and gets the most 
game, under the same conditions. 

‘‘You will get right-angle shots so far away that you will 
have to shoot at that angle, because the bird would be beyond 
reach of your gun if you waited for it to get at an acute 
angle. When you shoot at that angle, always hold far 
enough ahead to allow for the flight of the bird, even if you 
do keep the gun moving ; the allowance, however, must be 

l.ofC, 


100 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


a great deal more if the gun is stopped when you pull the 
trigger. 

“ Now, you both have a pretty good idea of what to do ; 
suppose we start back and let Bruno find a few jack-snipe for 
us, and get home in time for a two o’clock dinner.” 

“Now you are talking. I could eat a pine board,” said 
Dick, his mouth watering at thoughts of dinner. 

Bruno proved himself an old veteran on jack-snipe also. 
He pointed stanchly, and retrieved only when told. 

Mr. Kingston killed five straight, Thad got one out of six, 
and Dick, two out of the same number of shots. 

“ Eight jack-snipe, and sixteen ducks,” announced Dick, as 
he counted up the bag. 

“ That isn’t so bad for greenhorns ; you boys must have 
killed over half of them,” said Kingston. 

“ We got nine of the ducks ; Thad killed six and I 
killed three. Say, Thad, there is a chance to try your gun 
on a robin,” said Dick, eagerly, pointing to a redbreast 
hopping along unconscious of danger. 

“ Tut, tut, Dick. You wouldn’t shoot a robin, would you } 
said Mr. Kingston, reproachfully. 

“ Why not } ” asked Dick, in surprise. 

“ For several reasons. In the first place they are not 
good for food ; if you kill them they are left to rot on the 
ground. Then, if you shoot them, how can they sing for us 
in the morning.? Suppose, Dick, you lived in a country 
where the native inhabitants were very small ; suppose most 
of them were fine musicians, and they would come to your 
home and sit in the garden, and sing and play, and give you 
a fine concert without costing you a cent ; then, after the 
concert, they would roll up their sleeves, and all pitch in and 
help work your garden and flower beds : would you take your 


FIRST INSTRUCTIONS. 


lOI 


gun and creep around and try to shoot them for the pleasure 
they had given you and your family, and their help in work- 
ing your garden ? ” 

No, sir, of course not ; I would be a fool to do that,” 
laughed Dick. 

“Well, you are living in just such a country now. The 
birds are the native inhabitants. They sing and give us a 
fine concert every morning. Afterward, they all work like 
beavers in the garden and orchard, and among the flowers, 
gathering insects and worms for breakfast, that destroy the 
plants, flowers, and fruit.” 

“ I never thought of it in that way,” admitted Dick, 
thoughtfully. 

“Neither did I,” said Thad, “but papa is right.” 

“Boys are naturally destructive, I know,” went on Mr. 
Kingston, “they want to shoot everything they see; but I 
want you boys to promise me not to shoot song-birds, if only 
for my sake ; as you grow older, you will learn to love and 
protect them as I do. 

“ I am sorry to say, I have seen men, calling themselves 
sportsmen, who, when game was scarce, would turn their guns 
upon song-birds and shoot them ^ just for fun ’ as they termed 
it. Happily there are but few of that kind of men among 
old-time hunters ; it is done mostly by men who rent or 
borrow a gun for a day’s outing, and who know little or 
nothing about shooting game ; consequently they shoot every- 
thing that gets in their way.” 


CHAPTER VIL 


thad’s first goose. 

A lthough Mr. Kingston owned a quarter-section of 
land along the Mississippi bluffs, only about ten acres 
were under cultivation. 

As he had informed Thad and Dick, his boyhood was 
passed in the country near the “ Father of Waters.” 

At the age of twenty-two, he drifted to the city, where he 
secured employment with his present firm. The years rolled 
by and he became one of their most trusted employees. He 
married and a few years after took a position on the road. 

This enabled him to live, if he wished, in or near some of 
the smaller towns outside of the city, so long as he was near 
the railroad. 

His wife had lived a sufficient length of time in the coun- 
try to appreciate its beauties, and like himself preferred a 
rural home to one in the city. 

Every inch a sportsman, with sentiment enough in his 
nature to love picturesque scenery, he selected a site on 
the wooded, rocky bluffs overlooking the grand old Missis- 
sippi, where he purchased a quarter-section of land, and 
erected thereon a cosy, roomy cottage. 

Here he could sit upon his own porch and hear the 
booming of the pinnated grouse upon the bottoms adjacent, 
and out upon the upland prairie. In the thickets and dense 
woods along the bluff, the cheery call of “ Bob White,” and 


102 


THAD'S FIRST GOOSE. 


103 


the muffled drumming of the ruffed grouse was borne to 
his eager ears. A few minutes’ walk brought him to the 
haunts of the wild fowl, jack-snipe, and woodcock, among the 
rice-ponds and wooded lakes of the Mississippi lowlands. 
At the same time he was convenient to the railway and 
telegraph. 

Both Kingston and his wife were of a happy, jolly disposi- 
tion, and many of Mrs. Kingston’s friends soon found their 
way “out in the woods,” as they termed her rural home. 

Once there, they were so charmed and fascinated with the 
lovely, picturesque surroundings, that they were always loath 
to return to the smoky, dirty city. 

“ There are going to be some ducks and snipe killed, from 
now on. Chappy,” announced Thad, in a very impressive 
manner, to his brother the following Monday morning, as 
they stood on the porch, gazing at the ever-interesting 
Mississippi, prior to their departure for school. 

“Who is going to kill them ” inquired Dick, looking at 
his brother out of the corner of his eye. 

“ Little boys shouldn’t ask questions, but if you want to 
know, it is me, I, Thad Kingston, Esq. Who did you in 
your simple mind think was going to kill them ? ” 

“I rather think a boy named Dick, who smashes wood- 
cock, will have a fair-sized finger in that duck and snipe pie.” 

“There you go again. If you are going to keep on lug- 
ging that poor old woodcock in by the heels, I am off for 
school. Come on. I believe the blamed woodcock was half 
paralysed before you shot, anyhow.” 

“ If it wasn’t then, it was soon after,” said Dick, pausing, 
as they walked along, to launch a pebble at a far-distant 
kingfisher, hovering over the river. 




104 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


The boys came pretty near making their boast good. 
The remainder of the fall, they went down on the bottoms 
after school, as often as possible, to get the evening shooting, 
and both improved wonderfully after receiving the few in- 
structions from their father. 

Thereafter they had no trouble in keeping the table sup- 
plied with all varieties of game, and in addition, frequently 
sent a nice bunch to some of their friends in the city. 

Saturdays their father was at home, and all three busied 
themselves digging the potatoes and gathering the other 
vegetables, and storing them in the cellar for winter use, 
besides picking the few acres of corn, which was raised to 
feed the horse, two cows, pigs, and chickens. Generally, 
about the middle of the afternoon, the entire force struck, 
and shouldering their guns, went after ducks, snipe, grouse, 
quail, or squirrels, according to their inclination. 

Sometimes the programme was varied by hitching up the 
horse and wagon and going after nuts, along under the bluffs 
or in the woods on the bottoms, where the big shellbark 
hickory nuts grew in abundance. 

One pleasant Friday afternoon well along in November, 
the boys came home from school, donned their shooting 
clothes, called Bruno, and hurried down on the bottoms 
without losing any time. 

Their haste was apparent, from the remark Thad dropped 
to Dick, as they made hasty strides down the ravine road 
that led to the bottoms. 

*<If we can just kill a goose to show papa in the morning, 
I’ll be happy. We haven’t had a shot at a goose this fall.” 

“We haven’t seen many flying until to-day,” said Dick. 

“ We’ll go to the south end of the lake west of Willow 
Lake. Papa told me once that when geese or brant came 


THAD'S FIRST GOOSE. 


105 

into the bottoms, they seemed to go to that lake more than 
the others,” remarked Thad, as they hurried along.” 

What kind of shot did you load with .? ” inquired Dick. 

“The regular No. 5’s we use on ducks. That’s the coars- 
est we have ; but papa said they were coarse enough if we 
got within reasonable distance.” 

“ Look ! There are two flocks of geese. See them } 
One is over the river, and one over the bottoms,” interrupted 
Dick. 

“ Yes, and the flock on the bottoms is heading right across 
to the lake we are going to. Gee, but ain’t they low ; if we 
were only under them now ! ” said Thad, his eyes glisten- 
ing. 

The flock of great birds circled the lake once, and then, 
instead of alighting, headed south as if on a scouting 
expedition. 

“ Let’s get into the rushes at the south end, before they 
come back. To heel, Bruno ; we’re not after snipe now,” 
cried Thad, striding along with increased speed. 

In a brief space of time, the boys and Bruno were in the 
rushes at the end of the lake. 

“ Now, if they come back, they are liable to get into 
trouble,” observed Thad, with an air of importance, as he 
scanned the horizon in all directions for geese. 

The quiet hush of a late fall evening was slowly settling 
over the bottoms and river. 

The sun had just dropped behind the western hills, leaving 
a monument of gold and crimson to mark its resting-place. 

The heavy frosts had stilled the voices of the insect world, 
and the absence of their familiar droning hum lent an 
additional quietude to the scene. 

Ducks were scurrying in all directions, each flock evidently 


io6 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


looking for its favourite pond, where they could get lodging, 
and a big meal of delicious wild rice thrown in. 

Long lines of stately geese and brant were going south, 
high over the broad river, looking neither to the right nor 
left. 

Evidently they had dined farther north and were intend- 
ing to pass the night on the wing. Calling and gabbling 
away to each other almost incessantly, they reminded one of 
a fleet of ships sending signals back and forth as they sailed. 

Their cries, as they sweep majestically along, sound 
discordant to some, but are heavenly music to the wild- 
fowler. 

Of course there are always stragglers and laggards, and of 
these, many came investigating around the bottoms, drawn 
by the numbers of ducks flying there, to see what the 
prospect was to pass the night safely and incidentally get 
something to eat. 

Long and bitter experience had taught them not to depend 
too much upon the vigilance of their cousins the ducks ; so 
when a flock of geese or brant came in the bottoms, instead 
of swishing into the first lake they saw, like a flock of ducks, 
they sailed and circled, and circled and sailed, over meadow 
and lake, to be sure no enemy was lurking near. 

There is the difference between geese and ducks. 

A duck will risk its life to fill its stomach, while a goose 
will risk starvation to avoid the gunner. 

The boys had plenty of chances at ducks, but they were 
afraid of spoiling an unseen shot at geese. 

“ There comes a flock across the bottoms ; don’t move,” 
warned Thad, as they crouched in the rushes. 

A dozen honking geese came prospecting toward the boys, 
and just as the hearts of the latter began to beat high with 


THAD^S FIRST GOOSE. 


107 


hope, and Thad’s right forefinger stealthily crept toward the 
trigger, the geese swung off and took another course. 

Two or three times was this repeated by different flocks, 
until the boys, especially Dick, were too disgusted to even 
get excited. 

Perhaps it was all for the best, to steady their nerves, as a 
few moments later they heard a familiar honk from the 
south, and saw the first flock returning, with the evident 
intention of passing the night on the lake. 

Dick squatted in the rushes as coolly as an old hunter, and 
remarked, in a low but disgusted voice : “ I suppose we will 
have to get down, from force of habit, but they won’t come 
within a quarter of a mile of us, of course.” 

However, Dick was to be agreeably disappointed. 

The geese, gradually lowering their flight, came straight 
as an arrow for the boys, and when it seemed to Thad they 
were overhead, and he could see the whites of their eyes, he 
rose up and aimed at one of the leaders. 

But Thad, like most inexperienced shooters, did not calcu- 
late quite right. 

As he threw up the gun, the geese threw up their wings, 
checking their slow flight instantly. Then, as Thad pulled 
the trigger, he saw that they lacked several yards of being 
overhead, and his charge of shot just fanned the air in front 
of their broad breasts. 

The boy could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the big 
birds start off at right angles, entirely uninjured, and the 
thought that, after getting a flock of geese so near, he should 
miss them, was maddening. 

He clinched his teeth hard, as he aimed at a big leader, 
headed for the setting sun, and pulled the trigger of his 
remaining barrel with a forlorn hope that it might be fatal. 


io8 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


At the report, the gander folded its mighty wings and 
came to the ground with a thump that could be heard a 
quarter of a mile in the stillness of the evening. 

Hurrah ! You got one ! Go get it, Bruno,” shouted 
Dick, joyously. 

“ Gee, but it’s a sockdolager, ain’t it } Why didn’t you get 
one with the first barrel } ” said Dick, as Bruno brought in 
the big bird. 

‘‘Don’t talk about it; I don’t know,” replied Thad, his 
joy and disgust about equally divided at the hit and miss. 

“ If we get another chance, let me shoot,” said Dick, eager 
to distinguish himself by killing a goose. 

“Of course, it is your turn,” replied Thad, handing the 
reloaded gun to his brother. 

Just as the shades of evening began to fall, but while it 
was still quite light, Dick espied a big gray bird coming down 
the lake from the north, low over the water. 

“ Lay low, Thad, here comes my goose.” 

The bird was not more than fifteen yards distant as it 
passed a little to one side, and as the charge from Dick’s 
gun struck it fairly, it dropped with a crash into the 
rushes. 

“ Quick! Here goes a goose right over your head, low, up 
the lake.” 

Dick turned and caught a glimpse of the goose, speeding 
rapidly away. 

Hastily throwing the gun toward it, he fired, and the bird 
tumbled end over end into the lake. 

“We had better go home, it is getting late,” said Thad 
as Bruno brought in the last bird. 

“That’s the way to kill game,” said Dick, his boyish 
tendency to boast coming to the surface. 


THAD'S FIRST GOOSE. IO9 

‘‘Yes. I am awful glad you made those two shots,” said 
Thad, with a sigh of relief. 

“ Why } ” asked Dick. 

“ Because, now you will let up on that measly woodcock, 
and go to bragging about this double.” 

“ Hurry up, papa. Come on around to the north side of 
the house. Thad and I have something to show you,” 
shouted Dick, the next morning, after the greetings were 
over. 

“ What is it, Dick, a grizzly bear } ” asked Mr. Kingston, 
jokingly, as they passed around the house. 

“ How is that for a mess of geese, for Thad and I to 
get after sundown with one gun } ” cried Dick, triumphantly, 
pointing to their kill of the previous evening suspended from 
a tree, his round chubby face glistening like a full moon. 

“ Thad killed the big goose, and I killed the two small ones ; 
made a double on ’em, didn’t I, Thad ? ” continued Dick, 
shuffling about in a happy, excited way. 

“ It is certainly a fine mess of goose,” said Mr. Kingston, 
with a slight accent on the last word. “ That is a big Canada 
goose you killed, Thad,” handling the big bird, admiringly. 

“ What kind of geese are my two .? ” inquired Dick, eagerly. 

“ You say you made a double on them. How did you do 
it ? I never knew them to fly in company,” said Dick’s 
father, contemplating the former’s pair of birds. 

“ Why, you see this one came along and I killed him with 
the first barrel, and just then, Thad says: ‘Look out, there 
goes another one right over your head, going north,’ and I 
wheeled around and give it the other barrel, and killed it 
dead as a smelt.” 

“You made a splendid shot, Dick, but — I am sorry to 
say, they are not geese.” 


I lO 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


‘‘They ain’t? What are they, then?” said Dick, in 
amazement. 

“ This one is a speckled loon, and this one is a merganser, 
commonly called a fish-duck. Neither of them is good to 
eat ; but, of course, that doesn’t alter the fact that you made 
a good shot,” said Dick’s father, consolingly. 

“You see,” he continued, “their bills are shaped differ- 
ently from a goose’s bill.” 

“ Yes, sir, I see they are now. But it was late last night, 
and I didn’t look at the bills,” said Dick, his face lengthening 
somewhat. 

“ You will gradually come to know all of the different 
varieties of game, and other kinds of birds, the moment you 
see them on the wing ; you will recognise them by their 
manner of flying,” said Mr. Kingston, kindly, as they went 
in to breakfast. 

“Wait till I get my gun, and I’ll kill a goose or break 
a hatband,” said Dick, setting his jaws together, with a 
determined air. 

“ I suppose, when you get that gun of yours, we can pick 
up dead geese most anywhere on the bottoms,” remarked Thad. 

“ I’ll guarantee, we’ll pick up more dead geese than we 
did last night, after you shot,” was the retort. 

“ Say, Dick, have you decided whether to switch over on 
the loon and fish-duck shot, or keep on bragging about your 
woodcock ? ” said Thad, who could not resist the opportunity 
to give Dick a sly dig on his boasting proclivities. 

“ I am going to stop bragging till you do something to 
brag back about ; it’s too one-sided.” 

“ Shall we go after geese again this evening, boys ? ” said 
Mr. Kingston, as they were discussing breakfast a few 
moments later. 


TJ/AD’S FIRST GOOSE. 


I I I 


“Yes, by all means. I want to kill a real genuine goose,” 
replied Dick, eagerly. 

“ And I want to see if I can’t make a double. It seems 
as if a person of my caliber ought to be able to hit a wash-tub 
with each barrel, if it is flying,” remarked Thad. 

“ That was a rather sloppy shot you made last evening.” 
said Dick, with a grin, passing his cup for more coffee. 

“ Of course it was. I don’t deny it. Still, it was better 
than shooting loons,” said Thad, folding his napkin with an 
air of superiority. 

“ It was as far as meat is concerned, but did it ever occur 
to you that if the loon and merganser had been geese they 
would have been killed just as dead, when my eagle eye got 
after them ? ” said Dick, calmly. 

“ You mean your woodcock eye,” corrected Thad. 

“ What time this evening had we better start, papa ? ” said 
Dick, ignoring his brother’s remark. 

“ What time does the moon rise ” asked Mr. Kings- 
ton. 

“ I don’t know. What on earth has the moon got to do 
with shooting geese ^ ” said Dick, in amazement. 

“ A great deal sometimes, and this is one of the times,” 
replied his father with a smile, arising from the table and 
taking down an almanac that hung on the wall. 

“The moon will be full to-morrow. Just right. We will 
have plenty of light if it isn’t cloudy,” said Mr. Kingston, 
after consulting the almanac a moment. 

“ Can we shoot geese by moonlight, papa ? ” inquired Thad, 
with considerable curiosity. 

“ Yes. Some of the best shooting I ever had was by 
moonlight. Ducks are too small to be seen readily, but 
geese are so large there is no trouble in seeing them when 


I I 2 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


within gunshot, by the light of a full moon, if there are no 
clouds.” 

“ Won’t that be jolly But there is no use of Thad’s 
going,” cried Dick. 

“ What’s the matter now, smarty ? ” 

“ Why, if you can’t hit geese by daylight, there is no use 
trying by moonlight.” 

did hit them by daylight. You keep up your end of 
the procession and stop worrying about your superiors.” 

Why is it better to hunt them by moonlight, papa ^ ” 
inquired Dick. 

“ It isn’t in all cases. It depends upon the kind of shoot- 
ing. When shooting over their feeding-grounds, you must 
hunt them during the day ; but this is one of their roosting 
places, where they come to spend the night on the sand-bars. 
Geese must have gravel and water, and also take a nap. The 
reason we hunt them so late is because they don’t begin to 
come into the river until after dark. Wild geese are exceed- 
ingly shy and wary. They have discovered that the hunter 
stops shooting at dusk, so they wait until after dark, when 
the hunter has left the marsh and river, and everything is 
quiet, and they can come in unmolested. 

‘‘Frequently, during a good flight, the river is a perfect 
babel of voices the first half of the night until the ducks and 
geese get settled. The latter half of the night they take 
their nap. We will go down to the big bar below here some- 
time during the day, pick a favourable spot and scoop out a 
shallow pit to lie in.” 

“ If we only had another gun,” sighed Dick. 

“ You will get a gun soon enough. You are young yet.” 

“ You and mamma keep telling me that, but it seems to 
me I am getting pretty well along in years,” replied Dick, 


THAD^S FIRST GOOSE. 


II3 

who was inclined to pout a little and feel that he was imposed 
upon, when the subject of guns was mentioned. 

During the day, Mr. Kingston took the boys down to a 
big sand-bar that jutted far out into the river. He selected 
an advantageous point, and after scooping out and piling up the 
sand to form two shallow pits, they returned home to await 
the shades of evening. 

Shortly after the sun had set, the three hunters began to 
don their war-paint. 

“ Here is half a sack of 3’s, Thad, that I brought home 
especially for geese. Change the 5’s in your shot-belt for 
them. They reach out a little farther than 5’s,” said Mr. 
Kingston, tossing half a bag of shot on the table. 

The gathering shades of evening were stealing over the 
river as they walked out on the bar. 

In the west, a crimson halo shed a softening glow above 
the Iowa bluffs, while the dense woods on the eastern shore 
were shrouded in the purple gloom of twilight. Between, the 
Mississippi, a mile-wide band of silver, sparkled in the soft 
radiance that streamed from the big, round, jolly face of the 
full moon. 

‘‘Now, boys,” said Mr. Kingston, “when it gets a little 
later, we must keep very quiet and not speak above a whis- 
per. Geese are very keen of hearing.” 

An hour passed, but not a single honk came to their ears. 
Ducks they had seen in plenty, and the familiar quack of 
mallards could be heard out in the river every few moments. 

“Are you sure the geese will come here, papa .^ ” whis- 
pered Dick, anxiously. 

“ I think so, if there are any flying. Keep quiet and look 
sharp. Sometimes they come in perfectly noiseless, and get 
by before you know it.” 


14 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Another long wait followed. Dick was just mentally 
deciding that his father had led them a wild goose chase 
figuratively as well as literally, when a shadow fell across 
the bar. 

As he looked up, it seemed to his excited imagination that 
a dozen ghostly windmills were about to alight on the blind. 

Then he heard his father say : 

“ Give it to them, Thad.” And two streams of fire shot 
up in the air, followed by two deafening reports, that echoed 
and reechoed along the bluff. Two more reports followed 
in rapid succession, and quick came the thump, thump, of two 
heavy bodies striking the bar. 

Then the wary Canada geese, that had been stealing so 
silently over them, broke into a chorus of honking that made 
the woods ring as they disappeared down the river. 

Reload first, Thad, always,” said Mr. Kingston, in a low 
voice, as Thad made a move to go after the birds. This done, 
they walked out on the stretch of yellow sand where two big 
Canada geese lay in the broad moonlight. 

“Gee! They weigh half a ton,” whispered Dick, as he 
half dragged, half carried one of the geese back to the blind. 

Ten minutes passed, and a shrill honking came to the 
hunters’ ears from the north. A warning nudge from his 
father, and Dick, who had Thad’s gun, got himself under 
control and remained motionless. 

The flock could easily be followed from their continuous 
cries. 

They swept past out of sight and range; the cries grad- 
ually grew fainter and fainter, until Mr. Kingston whispered : 

“Guess they are heading for some bar farther down.” 

As he spoke,, the honking increased in volume. It sounded 
as if the geese were holding a consultation over the river. 



WHITE - FRONTED GOOSE. 




THAD^S FIRST GOOSE. 


5 


and all talking at once. The cries grew louder. “They 
are coming back. Don’t move or make a sound.” 

On came the geese, evidently heading straight for the 
bar, their cries, in the stillness of the night, sounding almost 
unnaturally loud and distinct. 

If Dick had not been near his father, he would probably 
have done something terribly out of place. He had hard 
work to cramp himself down when it seemed as though half 
the geese in the country were bearing down upon him. He 
strained his eyes through the moonlight to get a glimpse of 
the approaching flock, which was evidently very large from 
the racket they made. Then a dusky mass appeared in the 
moonlight, and before Dick realised the situation, they were 
surrounded by a swarm of over two hundred geese. It 
seemed as though the heavens were full of geese, alighting 
on the bar singly, in squads and regiments, swishing over the 
blind just above the hunters’ heads, gabbling, circling, and 
calling, little dreaming they were in the camp of the 
enemy. 

Kingston, ever cool and collected, saw at a glance that 
they were in one of those peculiar situations where, if the 
hunter does not keep his head, he will enact the fable of the 
donkey and the two bales of hay and come out of the melee 
with nothing but an empty gun and a large stock of vain 
regrets. 

Quickly selecting a small bunch low over the bar, he killed 
two with the first barrel, and one with the second, and turned 
to see what Dick was doing. 

That young goose hunter was badly rattled. He fired the 
first barrel out into the heavens somewhere ; it seemed to 
him he must hit some geese, but he never touched a feather. 
He was about to let the other barrel go in the same aimless 


I 1 6 THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 

fashion, when a dozen big birds alighted in a bunch on the 
sand within very close range. 

Dick whirled the gun on to them, and cut a swath through 
the bunch with the remaining barrel, killing three dead and 
winging the fourth. Then the mass of frightened geese 
gathered themselves and went honking down the river. 

Bruno captured the winged goose just as it was about to 
take a plunge-bath into the Mississippi ; the dead birds were 
gathered, and the hunters proceeded to take an account of 
stock. 

What was the matter, Dick ? Couldn’t you see the geese 
up in the air } ” said Mr. Kingston, jokingly, as they returned 
to the blind. 

I don’t know, I guess not. I fired the first barrel out 
in the air somewhere. Must have shot at the moon. Then 
I got desperate, and when that bunch dropped on the sand 
right in front of me, I gave them a blizzard right in the neck. 
I was bound to get geese somehow,” confessed Dick. 

We’ll forgive you this time, Dick, but that was a rather 
underhanded trick to play on geese,”, said his father, winking 
at Thad in the moonlight. 

I know it, but I needed geese.” 

“ Say, Dick, I’ll tell you how you can make a fortune,” 
remarked Thad. 

How ? ” inquired Dick, eyeing his brother suspiciously. 

“ Just arrange with somebody to catch geese, and tie them 
to a post by the hind leg, and you can beat them to death 
with a club and sell them.” 

“ I would have to arrange with somebody besides you, or I 
would starve to death,” said Dick. 

Mr. Kingston looked at his watch. “Ten-thirty. Haven’t 
we about all the geese we can carry conveniently } ” 


THAD'S FIRST GOOSE. 


117 

“Yes, let’s go home, now Dick has distinguished himself 
again,” said Thad, nudging his father. 

“ You must expect a fellow to do desperate things when he 
can’t have a gun of his own,” said Dick, as he shouldered a 
couple of geese. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 

A STORM followed soon after, which ended with a cold 
snap that closed the Mississippi for the winter. 

Long lines of northern wild fowl streamed hurriedly south 
to more congenial climes, leaving Thad and Dick to mourn 
their departure. 

However, the boys knew they would return when the thrice 
welcome spring made its appearance, and were content. 

They attended school, did the chores, and helped their 
mother in every possible way. 

Mr. Kingston hired a man to chop the summer’s supply of 
wood in the forest, and haul it to the house, and Saturdays 
Thad and Dick sawed, split, and piled it in the capacious 
wood-house, to dry for future use ; lightening their labours 
with talks and plans for the spring campaign among the 
wild fowl, and, like all hunters, indulging in reminiscences of 
their successes and failures the previous autumn. 

Mr. Kingston possessed a fair sized library, in which 
were most of the books published up to date bearing on wing 
shooting, which the boys read with great interest. 

During the winter their father brought home an illustrated 
ornithology, and instructed them how to identify the different 
species of wild fowl, — their Latin as well as their common 
names. 

ii8 


SHOOTING MALTA TBS IN THE WOODS. I IQ 

By March ist Thad and Dick were loaded to the guards 
with the Latin and common names of different game-birds, 
and doubly eager to catch the first glimpse of the returning 
wild fowl. 

Dick longed to have a gun of his own, but he complained 
not, and patiently bided his father’s promise to get him one 
in the fall. 

One Friday night, just before the annual breakup on the 
Mississippi, Mr. Kingston came home, and found the boys 
ecstatically happy over the prospect of the near approach of 
the hunting season. 

Saturday morning the softening air gave increased promise 
of spring’s return. A pair of daring robins had arrived during 
the night, and hopped from tree to tree, chirping their short 
notes in the odd, timid, inquiring way they always do the 
first day of their return from the south. 

They seemed to say : 

Well, you see we are back again. Do you think we will 
have any more cold weather } ” 

The boys divided their attention between their father and 
watching out of the big bay-window for spring birds and a 
possible flock of ducks. 

Presently Mr. Kingston walked quietly into his bedroom, 
and, coming out with a gun in his hand, said, in an off-hand, 
matter of fact way : 

Dick, Thad tells me that you are pretty careful with a 
gun, and knowing how anxious you are to have one, I have 
taken the liberty of buying you a gun this spring, instead of 
waiting until next fall. Here it is, and a good one; see if 
you can be as careful with it as Thad is with his.’^ 

Dick had noticed his father coming out of the bedroom 
with a gun, but thought nothing of it, as he supposed it was 


120 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Thad’s gun that his father wished to look at for some reason, 
but at the latter’s remarks, the changes in Dick’s facial 
expression were amusing to see. 

Finally he managed to gasp out : 

“ What’s that ! My gun Let me see it ! ” 

He handled it mechanically a moment, buf it was all so 
unexpected that he seemed momentarily bewildered. Finally 
he turned to his brother and said : 

“ Say, Thad, give me a kick, or a pinch, and see whether I 
am awake or not.” 

The words were barely out of his mouth, when the accom- 
modating Thad delivered a moderately vigorous kick in the 
rear portion of his anatomy in the vicinity of the equator, 
that sent the astonished Dick several feet out of the right of 
way. 

“ Thank you,” he remarked, as he regained his equilibrium. 
‘‘ I was awake, or I am now, but say, the next time I get in 
this fix just pinch me ; it will be less work for you. Give 
me the gun again, papa ; you see I wasn’t expecting it, and 
it seems too good to be true.” 

After looking it over thoroughly, “hefting,” and pointing 
it at imaginary birds, he said : 

“I don’t know whether to yell, sing, or just feel tickled. 
You want to shoot straight now, Thad, or I’ll kill ducks all 
around you.” 

“ It won’t be long until you will have a chance to try it, 
if the weather doesn’t change ; the river looks ready to go to 
pieces most any time now,” observed his father. 

But the weather did change ; at least enough to hold the 
ice until the following Thursday, when winter gave up the 
fight and beat an inglorious retreat. The hot sun beat down 
on the rotting ice with great fervour, aided by a south wind. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 


I2I 


and Friday, the ice was moving slowly and majestically, like 
a banished king, down the Mississippi. 

Friday evening the boys saw numbers of mallards circling 
over the woods and dropping down in the small lakes near 
the river, and you may be sure they were up bright and early 
Saturday morning, to go after them. Their father did not 
go, having work that required his attention. 

‘‘ My shot -pouch and powder-flask are just like yours, 
ain’t they } ” remarked Dick, as he donned those useful 
articles. 

“Yes. Think you can load your gun without making 
mistakes ? How many times do you suppose you will get the 
shot in first ? ” asked Thad, as he slipped on his rubber boots. 

“ Mighty few times, I can tell you ; I am going to keep 
cool as a cucumber.” 

“ Like you generally do,” said Thad, in a somewhat skepti- 
cal tone, as they went out on the porch. 

“ See that pair of mallards sailing over the woods next to 
the river ; that’s right where we are going.” 

“ I see ’em. They are right over those swales by the pin- 
oak ridge, where papa told us to go,” said Dick, his eyes 
dancing. 

“ Bruno, you are liable to have something to do, to-day,” 
with a friendly pat on the big, sedate head, looking wistfully 
toward the bottoms. 

It was with high hopes and fond anticipations that Thad 
and Dick started out that delightful spring morning. 

As they left the bottoms and walked through the woods, 
Thad remarked : “ Remember our instructions, to talk as 
little as possible, and speak low.” 

“ Hear ’em quack,” said Dick, in a half-whisper. 

As the boys neared the river, the sharp-eared ducks 


22 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


detected their approach and took flight, with a great flutter 
of wings, quacking and screaming. 

The boys soon came to their feeding-grounds, a long, low 
swale, bordered by a pin-oak ridge ; low willows were scat- 
tered through the swale, and the melting snow had formed 
little pools of water here and there. 

Hardly had our youthful wild-fowlers taken their stand 
behind a brushy willow, when a pair of mallards came along, 
chattering away like a pair of lovers. 

Dick just simply couldnt keep still quite long enough. 
The ducks saw him move and sprang into the air. 

Thad brought the drake down with a broken wing, and 
while Bruno was retrieving it, lectured Dick on his 
restlessness. 

I believe these ducks can see through a brick wall,” said 
Dick, somewhat chagrined at nearly spoiling the first shot. 

“ Probably they could, if there were holes in the wall like 
there is in this tree. Papa told us, when shooting mallards 
in the timber, that every shooter must use his own judgment, 
and I believe that where they are flying past like this, the 
best way is to let them go by as we did at the run the day 
papa showed us how to shoot on a pass.” 

Well, let’s try the next one that way, if I can keep still 
long enough,” said Dick. 

A low, penetrating hiss greeted their ears, and a green- 
headed drake came along, evidently looking for his mate. 

It came from Thad’s side, and was Dick’s shot. The 
latter acted like an old-timer, for once, and did not move 
until the drake was well past ; then he threw up his gun, and 
as the report echoed through the forest, the mallard doubled 
beautifully in the air, and came to the ground with a 
thump. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 1 23 

Bully boy. Good shot. That’s the way to smash ’em,” 
cried Thad, admiringly. 

Did you notice that was first blood for the new gun ? ” 
said Dick, with a smile that seriously threatened to disrupt 
his facial regularity. 

‘‘Don’t get excited now, because you made a good shot, 
and load your gun wrong,” warned Thad. 

“ Oh, I am as cool as a frozen rabbit,” replied Dick, his 
eager fingers, as he reloaded, belying his words. 

“ That may be, but it’s a warm spring day, and the rabbit 
may thaw out,” remarked Thad, sagely. 

A few moments later, a pair of mallards came along the 
swale from Dick’s side. When Thad got ready to shoot, 
they were passing behind a willow, which so disturbed his 
aim that he missed with both barrels, and Dick did not get a 
shot at all. 

“ I believe either of us would do better if we were alone, 
so I guess I will go over the ridge in the next swale,” re- 
marked Thad, after he had reloaded. 

The swale on the other side of the ridge was wider, but 
sprinkled with willows and little puddles of water, similar to 
the one he had left. 

Thad walked to about the middle, and stood by a 
willow. 

Having no one to converse with, he silently watched the 
surrounding forest, and listened to the quacking, calling 
mallards, circling around the timber. 

A low hiss startled him, and he wheeled around in time to 
see a mallard drake, that had been coming toward him, rapidly 
climb to a higher altitude, and swing off over the woods out 
of range of his gun. 

Then, Thad realised that he had frightened it by his quick 


24 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


movements, and remembered the advice his father had given 
him about moving suddenly. 

He was mentally chiding himself for not keeping that 
advice in mind, when he saw a pair of mallards coming toward 
him, flying slowly, side by side, evidently looking for some 
spot where they could fill their crops with pin-oak acorns. 

He seemed to be standing right in their dining-room, for, 
when about twenty-five yards away, both ducks slid down 
over a willow and, chuckling and hissing, threw up their 
wings and extended their orange legs to alight. 

Thad raised his gun to his shoulder, and started to draw a 
bead on the chestnut breast of the drake, hovering over a 
little pool of water ; but ere he could press the trigger, the 
ducks caught sight of him, and such frantic climbing, quack- 
ing, and beating the air with their powerful pinions, to get 
out of danger, Thad had never seen before. 

Of course, like all beginners, Thad shot quickly as possible, 
and while the ducks were rising and of course under shot, 
and watched with deep chagrin the frightened fowls wing 
their way rapidly over the timber. 

^'That was a nice trick. I’m mighty glad Dick wasn’t 
here ; he never would let up telling me about it,” muttered 
Thad to himself, as he reloaded. 

Soon after, he heard the report of Dick’s gun, both barrels, 
and directly a mallard came over the trees from that direction. 

Its flight was peculiar. The wings, instead of the full, 
powerful stroke of a vigorous mallard, were held out almost 
rigid, and only the tips seemed to be moving. 

It was going down on a slight incline, and Thad supposed 
it was intending to alight. However, it was a good shot, and 
as it went over, Thad threw up his gun ; but ere he could pull 
the trigger, to his utter astonishment, the mallard suddenly 


SHOOTING MALTA TBS IN THE WOODS. 1 25 

fell end over end to the ground. When he walked over and 
picked it up, it was stone dead, and then he knew that Dick’s 
shot had mortally wounded it. 

A few moments later, he heard Dick’s gun again. Next, 
his attention was attracted by a pair of mallards prospecting 
along in his direction. The ducks passed to one side entirely 
oblivious to danger, and when Thad’s gun cracked, the drake 
doubled in the air, and came down like a wet rag. Its mate 
made a frantic leap upward, but luckily Thad’s second barrel 
caught her just as she gathered herself to leave, and she fell 
beside her mate. 

It was Thad’s first double, and he grew at least a foot. 
He mentally decided that he knew just where to hold now, 
and could kill every shot. To add to his conceit, a few 
moments later he killed a single mallard that came along. 
Then he heard Dick’s gun more frequently, and pretty soon, 
alas, for his conceit, a pair of greenheads almost hit him in 
the ear, and he deliberately fired both barrels and never 
touched a feather. 

That put a damper on his conceit, and he was just con- 
gratulating himself that no one saw his rank miss, when he 
heard Dick’s melodious voice sing out : 

You ought to carry an umbrella to keep the ducks from 
lighting on your head ; they’ll get your hair all mussed up.” 

Thad bit his lip, but went on reloading. 

“ Say, Thad, I’ve got something the matter with my right- 
hand barrel it won’t go,” went on Dick, his voice exhibiting 
traces of excitement. 

Will it snap a cap } ” inquired Thad, coming up to where 
Dick stood on the ridge. 

“Yes, I’ve snapped two or three caps, but I can’t shoot 
the load out.” 


126 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ Is the Other barrel loaded ? ” 

“ No, I shot it off at a mallard, and tried to shoot this one, 
but it didn’t go.” 

“ Maybe you haven’t loaded it right ; got the shot in first, 
or something.” 

Oh, shucks, I loaded it all right. It’s something else.” 

“ Were the ducks flying pretty thick } ” 

“ Yes, coming fast as I could load and shoot,” replied 
Dick, beginning to get excited again. 

“The quickest way to find out is to draw the load,” said 
Thad, unscrewing the wormer. 

He dropped the ramrod in the left hand barrel to be sure 
it was not loaded, and then drew the shot wad on the other 
barrel. 

Inverting it, he poured out a charge of powder, and handed 
it to Dick. The latter’s eyes stuck out as he viewed this 
undeniable evidence of his mistake, and he looked foolish. 

Thad drew the other wad and poured out a fair sized load 
of shot. 

“Your rabbit thawed out; that was the trouble,” he re- 
marked, quietly. 

“ Huh,” said Dick, looking up. Then he looked silly and 
laughed. 

“ I don’t remember loading in any such way as that.” 

“ Of course not. The shot probably crawled in first, while 
you were watching for ducks.” 

“Oh, let up on a fellow, can’t you.^ You have done the 
same thing,” said Dick, as he took the gun to reload it. 

Thad remembered the fact, and wisely forebore to bother 
Dick any further. 

“ How many ducks have you killed } ” asked Dick, when 
he had reloaded. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 12 / 

“ Four.” 

“ I’ve got two, and I hit another one that came over this 
way,” replied Dick. 

Thad was scanning the air for mallards, and apparently 
did not hear the remark. 

“ I believe we had both better go back where I was. The 
ducks fly more there. You can go above me, and I’ll stay 
where I was,” continued Dick. 

Thad acquiesced, and picking up his .ducks, they walked 
back over the ridge to Dick’s stand. 

Bruno is having as much fun as we are ; he can see a 
mallard farther than anybody ; he just stood there beside me 
and watched for ducks same as a man, and if he saw some 
off to one side or behind, he would whine to attract my 
attention,” said Dick, with animation, glancing down at the 
sagacious dog, walking sedately beside him. 

“ Ain’t they dandies ? ” cried Dick, pointing to his pair of 
mallards lying at the foot of a willow. 

Before Thad could reply, two mallards appeared in front 
of them, and catching sight of the boys, commenced climbing 
the golden stairs without any unnecessary loss of time. 

Both boys gave a quick exhibition of gun play, but <a climb- 
ing mallard is not the easiest thing to hit, and when the 
fusillade ceased, their guns were empty and the ducks still 
going. 

“ That’s good shooting,” remarked Dick, as they re- 
loaded. 

“Yes; good as I did when those ducks tried to light on 
my shoulder a few minutes ago,” replied Thad. 

“ Does that kind of shooting disgust you, Bruno ? ” asked 
Thad, looking down at his four-footed ally. 

The latter gave a feeble wag of his feathered tail, blinked 


28 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


once or twice, and looked pensively toward the Mississippi as 
though unwilling to discuss the matter further. 

With an admonition to Dick not to shoot toward each 
other, Thad walked a hundred yards north, and stood between 
two willows. 

It was only a short distance to the Mississippi from where 
he stood, and through the naked, leafless branches of the trees 
he could catch a glimpse of the river, bearing its burden of 
drifting ice toward a tropic sea. 

High overhead, pintails and widgeons winnowed the warm 
spring air on their northern journey, uttering their silvery, 
whistling calls. 

Small, isolated patches of snow, looking sooty and forlorn, 
were rapidly melting and filling the little swales, as though 
glad to be resolved again into their native element. 

Suddenly Thad heard the crack of Dick’s gun, and looking 
south, saw a mallard start for the clouds. Then he saw it 
wither in the air and drop straight as a plumb-line, and heard ' 
the report of Dick’s other barrel. 

Good shot,” murmured Thad. Then he turned in time to 
see a green-headed drake go over the tops of the trees, out of 
danger. 

“ Just try that again, my friend, and you are liable to get 
your tail scorched,” he muttered. 

Fifteen minutes later, six mallards were sighted, coming up 
from the south. 

He looked for Dick, but the latter was not in sight, and he 
did not dare shout to warn him, for fear of frightening the 
ducks. 

“ If Dick don’t see them, I’ll get the laugh on him ; I’ll ask 
him where his sharp-eyed dog is,” mused Thad, as he watched 
the ducks coming. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 1 29 

‘‘No, sir. ril bet Dick don’t see them,” he chuckled, as 
the six big ducks passed Dick’s stand, without swerving from 
their course. 

“Now I’ll show him something; I’ll just knock one with 
each barrel, and tell him next time to keep awake when he 
is shooting ducks.” 

On came the mallards, hardly higher than the willows, and 
Thad’s chuckle deepened into a broad grin as the conviction 
grew that Dick had not seen them. Quietly his index finger 
stole toward the trigger as he stood motionless. 

Suddenly a puff of white smoke leaped out from the willows, 
and one big drake folded his wings and gave up the ghost, 
while another, evidently wing-tipped, went down through the 
woods and struck the ground a hundred yards away. 

Dick’s second barrel failed to score, and the ducks scattered 
over the woods, leaving Thad considerably crestfallen. 

His chagrin, however, quickly changed to honest admiration 
at his brother’s brilliant performance, and he laughed softly 
to himself. “ Blamed good shot, anyhow, if he did knock me 
out. Bully for Dick.” 

Thad soon saw that Dick had the better stand, as the ducks 
seemed to swing over there more frequently. He waited 
until he saw Bruno cross the swale with the wounded mallard, 
and then decided to take a stroll toward the Mississippi, to see 
if he could find a better stand. 

In a low place only a few yards from the river bank, a big 
gathering of mallards got up with vigorous protests against 
his unwelcome intrusion. 

A pair soon returned to see if the coast was clear, and Thad 
killed the drake. 

He made a rank miss on the next ones that returned, and 
did the same thing a few moments later. 


30 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Then he got mad, and the next pair that came prospecting 
around to see what the show was for finishing their suddenly 
interrupted dinner, Thad made a very handsome double, kill- 
ing them both dead. 

After that, he stood for a long time, surveying the grand 
panorama of drifting ice, and migrating wild fowl, without 
getting another shot. 

Then a big greenhead came past. It was out over the river, 
a long shot, and without stopping to think that he might have 
trouble in getting it if killed, he pressed the trigger. 

At the report, the drake threw the dark green head over on 
its back, and folding its powerful wings, came down with a 
terrific splash, in an open spot in the river. 

Then Thad realised that it was beyond his reach. 

As- the dead mallard, floating belly up, started swiftly for 
St. Louis, on the muddy current, he gazed helplessly at it, and 
instinctively thought of Bruno, over in the woods with Dick. 

At that moment he heard a voice say : 

**Go get it, Bruno.” 

He heard a heavy plunge, and looking around, saw Bruno 
swimming rapidly for his duck, and Dick standing on the 
bank. 

Then an unforeseen event occurred, as the dog started back 
with the drake. 

A big cake of ice came drifting by, between Bruno and the 
shore. 

A few strokes of his powerful paws brought him to the 
moving mass, and throwing his fore feet upon the ice, he 
endeavoured to bring his body up also. A moment he 
struggled and then his hind feet slipped from the ice beneath 
the water, and down he went out of sight in the cold, muddy 
waters. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 131 

In an instant he reappeared, and blowing the water from 
his nostrils, again tried to climb upon the ice. 

Three times was this repeated, and each time the faithful 
fellow slipped back into the river. Then he swam around in 
a circle several times with the duck still in his mouth 
as if looking for another more favourable spot to get 
ashore. 

Again he approached the treacherous ice, and made several 
more futile attempts to get out of the river. Each time that 
he went back into the water now, it could be seen that his 
head sank lower as he swam. Plainly, his attempts to get 
upon the ice, together with the freezing water, were fast 
exhausting his strength. 

The boys stood upon the bank, watching his struggles with 
increasing apprehension. 

“Thad,” said Dick, in a low tone, his voice trembling, “is 
it possible that Bruno is going to drown before our eyes } ” 

The dog started for the ice once more, and then Dick did 
a rash, foolish thing. 

Laying his gun on the ground, and quickly jerking off his 
powder-flask, without a word, he ran down the bank, and with 
one leap landed on the cake of floating ice, the inner edge of 
which was near shore. 

Running across the rotten ice, without thought of the 
danger of breaking in, he knelt down, and taking the duck 
from Bruno’s mouth, grasped his paws, and tried to pull him 
up on the ice. 

He exerted all his strength, and would have succeeded, but 
Bruno was big and heavy, and ere half-way out on the ice, 
Dick slipped, causing his hold to break, and the dog splashed 
back in the water. 

Three times did Dick succeed in getting Bruno almost 


132 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


on the ice, only to slip and see him go back into the icy 
river. 

The fourth time, by making an almost superhuman effort, 
Dick dragged the dog out on the ice, just as he himself 
slipped and went flat on his back, narrowly escaping a 
plunge-bath. 

At that instant a shout from Thad caused him to scramble 
to his feet and look toward shore. 

An involuntary shiver passed over him as he saw what the 
matter was. 

The big cake had swung twenty feet away from shore 
while he had been engaged in rescuing Bruno, and Thad, 
having his attention engrossed by Dick’s efforts to get the 
dog out of the river, had failed to notice it and warn them. 

What had I better do, — try to swim it } ” asked Dick. 

<‘No; don’t try to swim. The water is so terribly cold 
you might get cramps,” replied Thad, anxiously surveying 
the cold, muddy river. 

I don’t see how I’m to get off, then. There isn’t a boat 
in sight,” said Dick, looking longingly up and down the 
bank for a friendly skiff. But nothing in shape of a boat 
was to be seen. 

To add to their distress, the boys soon discovered that the 
current set away from shore at that point. While they 
were talking, and almost before they noticed the fact, the 
cake of ice had drifted thirty — forty — fifty feet from the 
shore. The stretch of cold, muddy water became too wide 
for Dick to think of swimming, so he reluctantly gave up 
the idea. 

Thad walking along on shore, keeping abreast of Dick and 
Bruno, was rapidly revolving in his head some plan to get 
them safely to shore. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 1 33 

“ Dick, does the ice seem solid ? ” he called. 

Dick stamped vigorously on the cake. 

“ It looks black and rotten, but it seems to be pretty 
solid here.” 

“ Think there isn’t any danger of its going to pieces for 
awhile } ” 

“ I don’t think there is, unless it strikes a sand-bar. Why } ” 

“ The only plan I can think of is for me to run home and 
get papa, and drive down to the fisherman’s shanty below. 
We can get a boat there, and come out and get you. Can 
you figure out any better way } ” 

“ No ; I don’t see what else we can do. There isn’t a boat 
between here and the shanty, since papa got rid of our old 
one,” replied Dick, trying to look cheerful. 

“ Then the sooner I’m off, the better. I’ll take your gun 
and powder-flask home. Good-bye. See you later,” called 
Thad, trying to hide his feelings under a jolly manner. 

“ Good-bye, Thad,” shouted Dick, who was a hundred and 
fifty feet from shore by this time. 

Thad hurried up the bank, secured Dick’s flask and gun, 
and started up through the woods for home. 

He had forced himself to appear cheerful while Dick could 
see him, but, as he hurried through the woods, the thoughts 
of Dick’s danger in floating down the Mississippi, alone on 
a frail cake of black, rotten ice, brought the tears to his eyes 
in spite of himself. 

What if the cake of ice should go to pieces, or strike 
a submerged bar, and the thousands of tons of drifting ice 
come piling and crashing down upon it ? 

In either case, death was certain for Dick and Bruno. For 
he had seen enough of the noble animal to know he would 
never desert Dick. 


134 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


These harrowing thoughts intruded upon Thad’s mind as 
he hurried through the woods, but he dashed the tears away, 
muttering to himself : 

“ It’s no use crying over it. That don’t help Dick.” 

‘‘Papa, Dick and Bruno are floating down the river on 
a cake of ice, and I want you to help me get them off, quick. 
The ice is awful black and rotten.” 

These pleasant remarks greeted Mr. and Mrs. Kingston’s 
ears as they were quietly eating dinner, when Thad burst 
into the room, panting and exhausted. 

“Thad Kingston, you are not joking.'*” cried his mother, 
her face paling. 

“The deuce they are! How far from shore.?” said Mr. 
Kingston, rising hastily from the table, for he saw, by the 
expression on Thad’s face, the latter was in earnest. 

“ They must be nearly in the middle of the river by this 
time, as the current set sharply away from shore,” replied 
Thad, dropping into a chair. 

“ And not a boat below, hearer than Jackson’s fish shanty,” 
said Mr. Kingston, with a look of concern. 

“I know it, and that’s why I came after you. We must 
hitch up ‘Uncle John,’ and drive down the bluff road fast 
as we can, and get a boat,” said Thad, who had recovered his 
breath a little. 

“You rest a minute and swallow a cup of tea, while I hitch 
up,” said his father, hurrying out of the house. 

Thad gulped down a cup of tea and seized a piece of bread 
and butter. 

“ Oh, Thad, don’t let anything happen to Dick,” cried his 
mother, beseechingly. 

“ Never fear, mamma ; we’ll get him,” replied Thad, darting 
out of the house. Two minutes later, he and his father were 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 1 35 

being whirled along down the bluff road at the top of “ Uncle 
John’s” speed. 

Dick was in anything but a cheerful frame of mind when 
Thad disappeared in the woods. 

Floating down a mile-wide river on a rotten cake of ice 
was no joke ; but, with all his impulsiveness, he was rather of 
a philosophical turn of mind, and resolved to make the best 
of a bad bargain. 

Then Bruno’s company was a source of great comfort to 
him also. 

Bruno’s command of language was somewhat limited, but 
he could talk eloquently with his eyes. In fact, he could 
convey his ideas more understanding^ than some people who 
have the gift of gab. 

He seemed to know that he and Dick were in trouble, and 
tried to comfort his youthful master the best he could. 

Dick seated himself on the ice, and, putting his arm around 
the neck of his four-footed friend, said : “ Bruno, we are in 
a bad fix, but I guess Thad and papa will get us out all 
right.” 

Bruno gazed at Dick a moment, and then, with a wistful 
look toward the spot where Thad had disappeared, squatted 
down beside his master. 

He said, plainly as possible, It’s pretty tough, Dick, but 
we have got to stand it.” At first Dick strained his eyes in 
a vain effort to see some one along the bank. But the only 
signs of life were the crows, cawing and flapping lazily from 
shore to shore, and the migrating wild fowl winnowing their 
way overhead toward the frozen North. 

Nothing but a level mile of floating cakes of ice, between 
which ran the cold blue water flashing in the sun, that 
seemed to mock his helplessness. Then he fell to counting 


136 THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 

the flocks of ducks, geese, and brant that streamed past, and 
trying to classify them. Some of the flocks came very close, 
and Dick half-wished Thad and he could build a blind, and go 
drifting down the Mississippi on a cake of ice. 

He would have the flocks fly directly over them, so the 
birds would fall on the cake of ice, and when the cake was 
strewn with dead ducks and geese, it should drift against a 
jutting point and stop, and they would gather the game and 
go ashore. Occasionally he got up to stretch his legs, and 
walked around in a small circle very gingerly, for he knew 
the ice was full of holes and rotten spots. 

The day was warm and bright, and the rays of the sun 
were boring holes in it, and making it more porous and 
dangerous every moment. 

They had floated a long time, it seemed to Dick hours, 
when suddenly at least a third of the cake left the main 
body and drifted away. This left only a block of ice about 
flfty feet square between Dick and the bottom of the 
river. 

How many more pieces the cake would break into he had 
no idea, and his eyes swept the bluff road with a longing, 
anxious gaze. 

Why did not Thad and his father come ? It seemed to 
Dick that he had been on the ice long enough for them to 
drive ten miles. 

He was almost opposite Jackson’s shanty now, and was 
getting ready to shout, although he could see no sign of life. 

Suddenly, as he looked, a light wagon came dashing down 
the steep bluff road at breakneck speed ; the cabin door was 
thrown open, and in an instant four men were dragging a 
stout fishing-boat down to the river. 

Then Dick threw up his hat and shouted for joy. But 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 1 37 

only for an instant. He happened to glance down the river, 
and the shout changed to a cry of terror. 

Just below him, the floating ice had struck a submerged bar, 
and was piling up in a mountain of crushed and grinding ice. 

If the rescuing boat did not reach him before he struck 
the gorge, his chances for life were small. 

The men on shore realised that fact, and worked with a 
will. But they were obliged to row around cakes of ice, 
and sometimes get out and pull the boat over one, so their 
progress was slow. 

Every cake in the path of the gorge, when it reached 
there, never stopped, but slowly crushed and ground its way 
up the inclined plane of ice until it reached the top, where it 
broke into fragments, part of which remained to swell the 
rapidly increasing pile, and the rest of the mass slid down 
the sides into the river with a sounding splash, and floated 
away. It is a grand spectacle to watch the floating mass 
strike the bluff bank of a small island. The few acres of 
ground quiver with the mighty shock ; the ice hesitates a 
moment, then slowly begins to mount the head of the island, 
crushing trees and willows in its path, grinding, crushing, 
and piling up a mountain of dirty ice, and there it remains 
until melted by the sun and rain. 

Dick was perilously near the gorge now. Kingston saw 
it and shouted to the men to work faster. Dick seemed 
paralysed with fright, and stood motionless, • watching the 
mountain of grinding ice a few feet ahead of him with a 
sort of fascination. 

“Dick, take off your boots, and jump into the river when 
you hit the gorge,” shouted Mr. Kingston, a ring of anxiety 
in his voice at the boy’s peril. But Dick stood like one in a 
dream. 


138 THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 

The next instant Thad averted his face with a half-sob, as 
he saw Dick start up the dread incline of crushing ice. 

Then he heard a shout and looked again. Dick and Bruno 
were in the river a short distance away, but Dick seemed 
barely able to keep his head above water. 

Kingston knew what the trouble was. The boy’s long 
rubber boots, filled with water, were pulling him down like a 
millstone. 

Bruno had got separated from Dick in the crash, but was 
swimming straight for him now, although too far away to be 
of any assistance, for unless help came in a very few seconds, 
Dick’s hours on earth were numbered. 

His father, standing in the bow of the boat, with every 
nerve and muscle tense, saw this. He saw Dick disappear 
beneath the cold blue waters an instant, then the curly head 
came to the surface again. 

As the boy started down the second time, parental anxiety 
could stand the strain no longer. Mr. Kingston made one 
mighty bound out in the river, and reaching out his long arm, 
caught Dick by the hair. 

Then the boat swept up, and the two sturdy fishermen 
lifted the three struggling forms out of the water. Fortu- 
nately Dick had retained presence of mind enough to keep 
from breathing under water, so he was all right so far as his 
lungs were concerned. 

How do you feel, Dick ? Give me a pair of oars, and 
let’s get to shore quickly as possible,” said Mr. Kingston, 
with a shiver. 

“ I feel as if I didn’t know whether I was on my head or 
my heels,” replied Dick, with a half-dazed look. 

Here, wrap this coat around him,” said Jackson, tossing 
a coarse, heavy overcoat to Thad. 


SHOOTING MALLARDS IN THE WOODS. 1 39 

Thad enveloped Dick in the big coat, and pulled off his 
rubber boots, that were filled with water, while the men 
hurried to shore. 

Arriving there, a rousing fire was' built, and Mr. Kingston 
and Dick took off their wet garments and put on some dry 
ones belonging to the fishermen. 

‘‘That was a narrow escape, my boy,” said Jackson, turn- 
ing to Dick. 

“I guess you don’t want any more of that kind of pie 
right away,” remarked Thad. 

“ I didn’t want that pie, but I had to take it,” replied 
Dick. 

“No, sir. I don’t believe, if your father hadn’t made 
that jump out into the river, you would have made the 
riffle,” said the fisherman, contemplating Dick, as he slowly 
filled his pipe. 

“ I hope this experience will prove a sufficient warning to 
you, Dick, to keep away from the ice when it is floating, and 
never try to send a dog out among floating ice. Twice in 
my life I have seen a dog narrowly escape drowning under 
the same circumstances, having a cake of ice drift between 
him and the shore,” said Mr. Kingston. 

“You needn’t worry any more about me, papa. I know a 
good thing when I see it, but floating down the Mississippi 
has no more charms for Bruno and me, especially on a cake 
of ice,” replied Dick. 

After an hour spent in drying their clothes, the Kingstons 
drove home, not forgetting to extend hearty thanks to the 
fishermen for their timely aid. 

Although they did not tell her the full extent of the 
danger Dick had passed through, Mrs. Kingston cried and 
fussed over him, and brought out an extra supply of dainties 


140 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


for him to eat. Which latter, of course, went straight to 
Dick’s heart, — and stomach, — for he was nearly famished. 

Thad took Bruno and went down in the woods, and brought 
home the mallards they had killed, a nice lot of them, but he 
did not try to shoot any more. He felt as though he had 
seen excitement enough for one day. 



DUSKY DUCK 






CHAPTER IX. 


SHOOTING IN THE WIND. 


FTER Dick and Bruno’s narrow escape from drowning 



in the Mississippi, it was curious to note the air of pa- 
ternal solicitude with which he watched over the boys, and 
especially Dick. 

He seemed to realise how near Dick had come to death in 
the river, and thenceforth took it upon himself to see that 
nothing should harm him on land. He made no outward 
display of his charge ; just simply kept his eye on Dick 
and Thad, and went where they did, unless chained in his 
comfortable dog-house. 

Sometimes schoolmates of the boys would gather at the 
house, and all engage in wrestling and scuffling, as boys 


will. 


On such occasions, Bruno watched them quietly out of the 
corner of his eye, without apparent concern, and a casual 
observer could not detect that he was interested in the least 
in their play. 

But let one of the other boys handle Thad or Dick too 
roughly, and instantly a low, ominous growl warned them to 
desist, — a warning that was always obeyed with remarkable 
promptitude. 

Mr. Kingston hunted but little with the boys in the spring. 
While not a crank on the subject, he had come to look upon 
spring shooting as against the best interests of the wildfowler. 


142 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


by shooting the ducks and geese on their flight to the north- 
ern breeding-grounds, and while in poor flesh. 

However, he let the boys hunt all they wished, for the 
practice it afforded them, preferring to wait until they ar- 
rived at a more mature age before showing them the error 
of their ways. 

Needless to say, they made good use of their opportunities, 
and every Saturday found them tramping the woods and bot- 
toms in search of wild fowl. Frequently, after school, they 
would take their guns and go down upon the bottoms to get 
the evening shooting as the ducks came in to feed. Their 
improvement was wonderful, and they soon became so expert 
that they hit oftener than they missed, which is saying a great 
deal, considering their age and the length of time they had 
been shooting. 

Of course they ran against snags, as all young duck 
hunters do. That is to say, they would have an off day. 
Perhaps after doing excellent shooting on the wing for a 
number of days, they would feel self-satisfied and gay, and 
imagine that they had mastered everything about wing 
shooting. 

Then they would go out on a wild, boisterous day, and 
shoot and bang away, from early morn until night, and come 
home dragging four weary legs and one or two ducks, utterly 
disgusted and discouraged, and pour a tale of woe in their 
father’s ear, about the guns or ammunition not doing their 
duty. 

The second time this occurred, the boys came home about 
noon, looking tired and cross. 

Well, boys, what luck } ” inquired Mr. Kingston, looking 
up from his desk, where he was writing, as Thad and Dick 
came in. 


SHOOTING IN THE WIND. 


143 


“No luck at all,” grumbled Dick, looking sour and dis- 
couraged as he set down his gun. “ Thad found a sick blue- 
bill asleep, and by resting the gun on its tail, managed to 
cripple it, and that’s all we got. We shot at ducks, standing 
still in the air, time and again, and never touched them.” 

“You did have hard luck. What do you think was the 
matter .? ” 

“ The last lot of powder was no good, of course. What else 
could it be ” replied Dick, discontentedly, walking to the 
window and looking out over the Mississippi. 

“ What do you think about it, Thad .? ” 

“ Why, I think as Dick does, that it must have been the 
powder. I don’t see what else could have caused such a 
rank lot of missing ; we have been killing ducks right along, 
before to-day.” 

His father looked out of the window and said : 

“ The wind is blowing pretty hard, isn’t it } ” 

“Yes, sir; it has been blowing hard all the morning,” 
replied Thad. 

“ I will walk down to the river with you after dinner, and 
show you why you failed to kill any more ducks ; I must 
finish this letter now,” said Mr. Kingston, quietly, turning to 
his desk. 

“ Papa is a queer chap, ain’t he ? He talks as though he 
knew all about why we didn’t kill any more ducks,” remarked 
Dick, as they strolled outside and seated themselves on a 
rustic bench beneath a big hickory. 

“ He probably does,” replied Thad, who had acquired great 
respect for his father’s knowledge. 

“ I don’t see how, when he wasn’t there,” said Dick, skep- 
tically. 

“ There are a whole lot of things you don’t see. 


144 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Didn’t he sit in his chair and tell us all about where we 
shot, and how we missed those teal last fall ? ” replied Thad, 
with great unction. 

“ I know he did, but that’s different. He knew we shot 
behind, because we hadn’t been taught how to shoot ; but 
now we know all about where to aim, I don’t see how he can 
tell why we didn’t kill anything,” said Dick, flipping a tiny 
pebble from his thumb at a fly on the fence. 

Maybe we don’t know all about aiming yet. I tell you 
he is mighty darned awful smart, and you mark my words, 
Mr. Dick, he’ll tell you all about it,’’ said Thad, impressively. 

After dinner, the trio took Thad and Dick’s guns and 
walked down to the river. A stiff breeze was blowing down- 
stream, and consequently the waves were very light. 

The boys were in a great state of wonderment to know 
what their father was going to do. They were not kept long 
in suspense. 

Mr. Kingston picked up a good sized block, and hurled it 
thirty-five yards across the wind, out on the bosom of the 
Mississippi. 

^‘Thad, let’s see how many No. 6’s you can put in that 
block ; and Dick, you and I will watch the charge, on the 
water.” 

‘H’ll make a sieve of it,” replied Thad, confidently, throw- 
ing up his gun. 

A sharp report followed, and Dick roared : 

“ Never touched it. The whole charge went two feet to 
the south. You’re a dandy; no wonder you can’t kill any- 
thing flying, when you can’t hit a block the size of a dinner 
table, sitting.” 

Thad looked dumfounded. 

“ Didn’t I hit it, papa ? ” 


SHOOTING IN THE WIND. 


145 


No, Thad. The whole charge went across the water, 
below the block. Now, Dick, you try it,” he continued, 
turning to that young gentleman, who looked restless and 
eager to distinguish himself. 

“ Watch your little brother show you how to hit a block, 
Thaddy, old girl. If I don’t blow it out of the water, you 
can throw me in the river,” said Dick, as he stepped to the 
score with the proud look of conscious superiority. 

Dick missed the block nicely, his charge also going to the 
south, and Thad observed ; 

You blew it out of the water like fun. You didn’t come 
within four feet of it ; you can blow better with your mouth. 
Now prepare to take your bath, smarty.” And Thad seized 
Dick by the slack of his pants and the back of his neck. 

Dick looked beat and foolish. 

“ Is that right, papa V he asked, wriggling out of Thad’s 
grasp. 

<‘Yes, Dick, you never touched it,” replied his father, 
laughing at the boy’s perplexed look. 

“ You try it, papa,” suggested Thad. 

Kingston took the gun ere the block had floated too far, 
and fired. 

You hit it all right,” exclaimed both boys in the same 
breath, as they saw the charge sweep across the block. 

^‘Let me try again ; I believe I can hit it,” cried Dick, eagerly. 

Wait a moment, until I find another target ; this one has 
floated too far,” said his father. 

The next block had hardly touched the water before Dick 
levelled his gun, but to his chagrin the load of shot again 
went to the south. 

Your nerves must be unsteady,” observed his father, 
winking at Thad. 


146 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ What is the reason neither Thad nor I can hit it, and 
you can ? ” asked Dick, in great perplexity. 

“The reason is very simple, Dick. The wind drifts the 
charge of shot to one side. Now shoot, and hold about as 
far to the north, as the charge went to the south.” 

Dick did so, and most of the shot struck around the 
block. 

“Try it again, Thad, and hold as I told Dick,” said his 
father. 

The former did so, and struck the block with nearly the 
centre of the charge. 

“Now do you see, boys, why you missed ducks this morn- 
ing.? The wind was blowing, and every time you shot, the 
charge drifted more or less, according to the angle. Remem- 
ber after this, when shooting in the wind, to allow for 
the charge drifting. I might have told you this, at the 
house, but it is hard to believe it until you see it demon- 
strated on the water. Now you know it to be a fact and will 
always remember it.” 

As they were walking home, Mr. Kingston said : 

“To show you how difficult it is to believe the fact that 
shot will drift with the wind, I will relate that I once saw four 
men, all old duck hunters, shoot at a winged duck on the 
water, at right angles with a hard wind. The first man 
missed it as you did the block. The next one, instead of 
learning a lesson from his companion’s miss, and holding 
in the wind, also aimed at the duck. He missed with both 
barrels, and the two men following did the same thing, so the 
duck swam away in safety, because these men had never 
practised at a target on the water to see how the shot would 
drift.” 

“ I am glad to hear that,” remarked Dick. “ I began to 


SHOOTING IN THE WIND. 


147 


think that Thad and I were the two biggest fools on earth, 
for we never see anything until you tell us, but it seems 
that other folks are just as big fools as we are.” 

“As you are,” corrected Thad ; “I only shot at it once.” 

“You had a mighty close call at being a fool. All you 
lacked was an opportunity ; you would have stood there and 
shot till the river froze over, and never touched it, if papa 
hadn’t told you how,” said Dick. 

“ What do you think now, Dicky boy, about your old 
father sitting in the house and telling you how you missed 
ducks } ” inquired Thad, giving Dick a somewhat vigorous 
poke in the ribs with his thumb, as they walked up the bluff 
some distance behind Mr. Kingston. 

Dick stepped out of reach of his brother’s too friendly 
thumb, as he looked up admiringly at his father’s stalwart 
form. 

“ I’ll give it up ; he’s a trump,” was all he said. 

Thad and Dick remembered the lesson on shooting in a 
strong wind, and the next time they encountered one, did not 
come home empty-handed. 

Although the wind still bothered them, as it does every 
shooter, and they failed to make the scores they did on a 
quiet day, they always returned with a moderate bag even 
in the wildest weather. 

About the middle of April, the jack-snipe arrived, and they, 
together with Bruno, had fine sport with the puzzling long- 
bills, and by the time the spring flight was over, both had 
become wonderfully quick on the trigger, and a jack-snipe 
stood no more than an even show of escaping. 

The bursting leaves again covered the trees, and the forest 
aisles were rife with singing birds, when the boys laid away their 
fowling-pieces, with a regretful sigh, as all boy hunters do. 


148 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


The grass upon the bottoms was nodding and waving in 
the gentle breezes, and the handsome red-wing blackbird 
swung gracefully on the bended rush, singing to his help- 
meet, on her near-by nest, or fluttered above some heedless 
intruder’s head, scolding ceaselessly at his impudence in 
coming into his front yard and bothering the women folks 
when they were busy with their work. 

The dancing sunshine peeped through the dark green 
foliage, where the peaceful kine, with full stomachs, chewed 
the cud of contentment in the graceful shade, half drowsing 
in the summer air. 

^'Boys,” said Mr. Kingston, one day, as they were sitting 
under the trees in the front yard, ‘‘you must have a new 
boat, and each of you a jointed rod, and reel ; I want you to 
learn to catch black bass. We will build a boat-house on 
the bank of the river, and have a place to keep the boat, 
oars, etc.” 

“ That strikes me all right. Thad can do the rowing, and 
I’ll catch the fish,” remarked Dick. 

“ There you go again, always looking for the soft end,” 
said Thad. 

“ Well, if you’re so afraid of a little work. I’ll do the fish- 
ing, and you can do the rowing,” replied Dick, facetiously. 

“ There won’t be rowing enough to bother about, only to 
the fishing-grounds. And I am going to show you another 
method of shooting ducks, also.” 

“ Don’t we know everything yet, about shooting ducks } ” 
asked Dick, in astonishment. 

“ Not quite, Dick, although you know considerable for a 
boy,” replied his father, with a laugh. 

“ What kind of shooting is it } ” inquired Thad. 

“ Shooting over decoys.” 


G 


SHOOTING IN THE WIND. 


149 


‘‘ What are decoys ? ” asked Dick. 

“ Decoys are wooden imitations of ducks, or other game 
birds, painted to resemble as closely as possible the live bird. 
Small flocks of decoy ducks are set out in the water where 
ducks feed, or rest, or on some fly-way. The birds in flying 
about see the decoys, and, thinking they are genuine, try to 
alight with them. The shooter has his blind near by, and 
when the circling ducks are near enough, rises up and 
shoots.” 

“Gee Whittaker, Thad ! That’s the boss way to shoot 
ducks,” cried Dick, joyously. 

“ I should say so ; beats the other way all hollow,” replied 
Thad. 

“Just think of it,” continued Dick, his mind conjuring up 
visions of comfort, “ a fellow can sit still, and let the ducks 
come to him, instead of wearing off about four inches of his 
legs every day, looking for the ducks. Why didn’t you tell 
us about it before, papa } ” he inquired, with an injured air. 

“ If you wore off four inches of your legs every day, you 
couldn’t hunt only a couple of days ; you would run out of 
legs,” observed Thad, surveying Dick’s short drumsticks. 

“ Oh, you will have to shoot ducks all kinds of ways. Over 
decoys, in the woods, on a pass, and in the marsh, and some- 
times in corn-fields.” 

“Corn-fields,” echoed Thad, “do they shoot ducks in 
corn-fields t ” 

“Sometimes, when the water is low, and feed scarce. 
Some of the best shooting I ever had was in corn-fields. Of 
late years, shooting over decoys has been my favourite ; I 
guess I am getting lazy in my old age. I used to love to 
tramp around, but now it is more fun to sit in a comfortable 
blind and let those do the tramping who wish.” 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


150 

I must have been born lazy,” said Dick. 

“ No chance for an argument there. No one to take the 
other side,” remarked Thad. 

Kingston was good as his word. He bought the boys a 
light, safe boat, built a boat-house on the bank of the river, 
above high water, and arranged slides so the boys could get 
the boat up and down easily in low water, for the upper 
Mississippi has a rise and fall of twenty feet or more. 

He bought them each a good jointed rod, and reel, and 
went with them and showed them where both the small and 
big mouth black bass, that king of river fish, could be found. 
He taught them how to cast the fly, and how to fish with 
minnows and the trolling-spoon. For Mr. Kingston was as 
skilful in fishing as he was in shooting wild fowl, and Thad 
and Dick could not have had a better instructor. 

They were quick-witted, and soon caught the knack of 
handling the reel and rod. 


CHAPTER X. 


hornets’ nest wadding. 

O NE Friday afternoon in September, Thad and Dick 
came home from school about three o’clock, an un- 
usually early hour. 

Dick told his mother that school “ let out ” earlier than 
usual, for some unexplained reason. 

This may have been true, and probably was, as it is quite 
a customary thing for schools to do, Friday afternoons, on 
certain occasions. 

However that may have been, one thing could be plainly 
noticed, even by a casual observer. That was, that some- 
thing of unusual importance was about to take place. 

The air of mystery and half -suppressed excitement, the 
eager restlessness, apparent in the boys’ every action, all went 
to confirm that fact. 

We don’t want Bruno.” 

Dick paused in a half-inquiring way. 

Thad shook his head, ‘‘No,” and Dick snapped the chain 
in the wondering Bruno’s collar. 

“ Do we want our guns ? ” 

Again Thad shook his head. “ We don’t want anything 
but a stick.” 

“Come on, then.” 

In reply to his mother’s query as to where they were 

151 


152 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS, 


going, Dick said they were going to take a walk along the 
foot of the bluff, just to look around a little. 

Bruno whined one mournful protest at being left behind, 
as they started ; but he was too well trained, and too philo- 
sophic, to make much fuss, and watched the boys disappear 
among the trees, down the bluff road, with the best grace 
possible. 

Once down the bluff, and alone by themselves, secrecy was 
thrown to the winds, and the boys talked. 

Dick said : 

^‘It’s the greatest thing we ever struck.” 

“Yes; and it’s just by an accident that we found it out. 
If we hadn’t gone with Jim Watson down to the river, and 
got acquainted with old man Fisher on the house-boat, we 
wouldn’t have known anything about it,” replied Thad. 

“ I wonder why papa never heard of it. And he couldn’t, 
or he would have told us, anything as important as that,” 
said Dick. 

“That’s what I can’t understand. Papa seems to know 
everything about hunting, but he has never mentioned hor- 
nets’ nest wadding, so he couldn’t have known what it was,” 
replied Thad, greatly perplexed. 

“ Maybe there wasn’t any hornets’ nests where he was 
raised,” observed Dick. 

“ I guess that’s the explanation, ’cause you know old man 
Fisher said that not one hunter in a million knew anything 
about it’s being good for wadding.” 

“ Why, didn’t Fisher say that he hadn’t even tried it him- 
self ” remarked Dick, in an inquiring tone. 

“Yes, he did, come to think. You know he traps more 
than he hunts, and he probably didn’t care enough about 
making long shots to take the trouble to get it. You know 


HORNETS' NEST WADDING. 


53 


he told us it was an accident, the way he happened to know 
of it. An old Dutch doctor told him about it, back east, 
years ago. The old doctor used to hunt a lot, and he 
accidentally found out about hornets’ nests for wadding,” 
said Thad. 

“ Old Dutch doctors are awful wise. They know a 
lot that other folks don’t,” said Dick, looking around 
mysteriously. 

“Yes, and they keep it to themselves. Do you remem- 
ber how Fisher said the old doctor found it out } ” asked Thad. 

“ I don’t remember exactly,” replied Dick, thinking hard. 

“ Why, he was out hunting pheasants one day and run out 
of wads. He didn’t have a scrap of anything in his pockets 
that would do, and the only thing he could find was an old 
hornets’ nest. He loaded the gun with that, and then he 
didn’t get any more shooting until he was going home. 
Then he saw a pheasant sitting on a knoll about a hundred 
yards away, and shot at it just to get the load out of his gun, 
and killed it dead as a door nail.” 

“ Oh, yes, I remember, now. And then he kept shoot- 
ing it, and trying it farther and farther, until he found he 
could kill nearly a quarter of a mile,” said Dick, his face 
lighting up. 

“That’s what he did, and he kept it to himself, until 
Fisher gave him a new mink-skin cap one day | then he told 
Fisher, and told him never to tell a soul, and Fisher said he 
never did until he told us, to-day.” 

“ Gee, ain’t it lucky we went down to Fisher’s house-boat 
to-day .? He’s going down the river in a day or two, way 
down to Arkansas, to put in the winter trapping. We may 
never see him again,” said Dick, in the tone of a person who 
has had a narrow escape from being disinherited. 


154 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Awful lucky. I wonder what there is about it that 
makes it shoot so,” said Thad. 

“ It must be some secret power that the hornets put in 
it,” observed Dick, sagaciously. 

It’s queer how it acts. Fisher said that old Dutch 
doctor told him that it would shoot just exactly so far, and 
shoot hard enough to go through a duck ; but a foot farther 
than that, he couldn’t stick shot into paper,” said Thad. 

We’re mighty lucky in having one of these nests around 
here, ain’t we ? Fisher said that old doctor told him that 
probably there wasn’t more than a ' dozen in the whole 
United States.” 

Yes, I remember. That old doctor told him there were 
two kinds of hornets, and the kind that makes these nests 
are awful scarce. That’s why there’s so few nests in the 
country,” said Thad. 

Ain’t it funny, that probably the only nest in the State 
should be right here under the bluff, close to us ” cried Dick. 

“ Won’t we have some fun with papa, though ? ” said Thad, 
jubilantly. 

‘'Fun is no name for it,” cried .Dick, vaulting a bush 
nearly as high as his head, in his elation. 

“ We’ll hide our wadding and keep papa guessing how we 
make such long shots,” remarked Thad. 

“ Won’t it be jolly, though .? We won’t shoot at ducks or 
anything, unless they are way off, two or three gun-shots 
away ; and then we’ll shoot and kill, and then watch papa 
look at us and ask how we did it. But how are we going to 
keep him from seeing our wadding when we load ” asked 
Dick, doubtfully. ^ 

“ We must. That’s all there is about it. We can make 
some excuse and walk off a ways ; or turn our back to him. 


HORNETS' NEST WADDING, 


155 


We’ve got to do something like that, for if he ever gets a 
glimpse of the wadding, he’ll know right away what’s up, 
’cause he’s sharper than tacks, papa is,” replied Thad. 

^‘I know it, but we’ll fix that all right. Say, do you 
remember just the tree it’s on asked Dick, peering ahead, 
along the bluff. 

Yes. It’s just a little ways ahead. It’s on the limb of 
an oak-tree about ten feet from the ground, on the side 
toward the bluff,” replied *Thad. 

Are you sure it’s an old nest } ” asked Dick, with sudden 
misgivings. 

Sure. I never saw a sign of a hornet around there, and 
I’ve looked at it a dozen times,” replied Thad, positively. 

Thad’s reply brushed the, last cloud from the horizon of 
Dick’s happiness, and he felt airy enough to jump the 
Mississippi at about two jumps. 

‘‘And say, Thad ; do you remember another thing Fisher 
said that old doctor told him about this wadding ? He said 
you couldn’t kill anything except game birds with it, and it 
didn’t make any difference whether you aim exactly right or 
not ; the duck or phea^nt, or whatever it was, seemed to 
draw the shot, something like a magnet, you know.” 

“ Yes. And he said you might shoot at robins or blue- 
birds, or any birds like them, for a week, and you couldn’t 
touch one ; it just seems to be made for shooting game,” 
replied Thad. 

“ It’s a good thing there isn’t lots of nests in the country, 
ain’t it ? ’Cause then every one would get to using them for 
wadding, and they would kill every time, and after awhile 
there wouldn’t be any game to shoot, it would all be killed, 
wouldn’t it?” said Dick, as a sudden thought struck 
him. 


156 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“Of course. And that’s just why there are so few,” re- 
plied Thad, wisely. 

“ There it is, now,” he cried, suddenly, pointing eagerly to 
a grayish brown ball, big as a man’s head, that hung sus- 
pended from the end of a limb a short distance ahead. 

“ How is the best way to get it down } ” asked Dick, stop- 
ping a short distance from the coveted wadding, and devour- 
ing it with eager eyes. 

“ Better throw a club up and hit the limb just above the 
nest. Maybe it will break off,” suggested Thad, walking up 
a little nearer. 

“ Say, Thad, I thought I saw a hornet go in the nest just 
then,” said Dick, eyeing it sharply. 

Thad circled around the coveted prize, and surveyed it 
long and earnestly. “ Nonsense. It’s only your imagina- 
tion. Besides, I ain’t sure these kind of hornets have 
stingers,” he said, finally. 

“ I didn’t think of that ; maybe they don’t,” said Dick, as 
the new idea struck him. 

“ Bet you I knock it down the first smash,” said Thad, 
poising his club. 

“ Whale away,” cried Dick. 

And Thad whaled away. 

Of subsequent events the boys told a somewhat conflicting 
story. Thad said that a quart of hornets poured out of that 
apparently defunct nest, while Dick averred, positively, that 
there was not a hornet less than three pecks. 

Both boys, however, agreed on one thing. They were 
surrounded in a twinkling by a cloud of large, robust, indig- 
nant hornets, anxious to avenge the attack upon their home, 

Dick also claimed that, instead of running at once, Thad 
stood around on one leg, waiting to see whether it was as 









m V 'Hj-h 








VlBv A 


bB 





THE BOYS AND THE HORNETS 



1 


I 


HORNETS^ NEST WADDING. 1 57 

he suspected, that this particular brand of hornets had no 
stingers. 

If so, he settled the question to his entire satisfaction. 

A big, fierce-eyed insect, on the skirmish line, made a vi- 
cious pass at that unfortunate youth, and drove a barb-wire 
lance into the back of his neck that sent him six feet in the 
air with a howl of anguish, and started him flying along the 
bluff toward home, at a clip that would have made a quarter 
horse cast his racing shoes and start for the pasture in 
despair. 

Come on, Dick, they’ve got stingers,” shouted Thad, his 
arms gyrating, and slapping the air like a windmill loose in a 
storm. 

“ ’Course they have. Ouch ! any fool knows that,” yelled 
the frantic Dick, darting after Thad with all the speed in his 
short legs. 

Along the bluff went our youthful wildfowlers, fast as they 
could run, leaping rocks, and bounding over bushes high as 
their heads. 

At every other jump almost, the air would be rent with 
a yell of pain, showing that the indignant insects were taking 
ample revenge for the insults heaped upon them. 

Thad, hold on, and help get some of these hornets off the 
back of my neck,” wailed Dick. 

I can’t stop, the blamed things won’t let me,” answered 
Thad, waving his arms wildly as he fled. 

Darn it ! you’ll pull a fellow out of the river, and then let 
a lot of hornets eat him up,” cried Dick, petulantly, nearly 
frantic with pain. 

‘‘ I’d sooner pull you out of four rivers than face this mess 
of hornets,” returned Thad. 

Nevertheless, he remembered the ice episode, and his heart 


158 THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 

softened in spite of his pain, as he thought of his younger 
brother behind, at the mercy of the relentless insects. 

“ Hurry up, then,” he shouted, pausing in his mad career, 
and taking off his hat to keep the hungry insects at bay, 
while he waited for Dick to come alongside. 

It was a bad move on Thad’s part. For no sooner was his 
head uncovered, than the vigilant foe got into his hair, and 
their long, lithe bodies, barbed with a venomous sting, pricked 
his scalp like red-hot needles. 

Uttering another yell of pain, he forgot all about assisting 
Dick, and turned and fled. 

He was not to be blamed. It is no summer picnic, facing 
a crowd of angry hornets. The writer has been there, and 
knows all about it. 

Gradually, however, the maddened hornets, having taken 
their revenge, dropped behind one by one, until but two or 
three were left. 

They desisted none too soon, for the boys were tired out, 
and a sight to behold. 

Lumps on the back of their necks ; lumps on their jaws, 
and over their eyes, — for the swelling comes up almost 
instantly, — while Thad had two or three additional reminders 
on his head, where he had taken off his hat. 

But their enemies had departed, and for that the boys felt 
thankful. 

“Blast your picture! take that,” said Thad, making a vi- 
cious slap with his hat at the last visible hornet that still 
buzzed hungrily around them, as they seated themselves on a 
mossy log to rest their tired legs and ruminate upon their 
adventure. 

His aim was true ; but as the offensive insect fell, it struck 
on Thad’s left wrist, and quick as a flash sent its keen barb 


HORNETS^ NEST WADDING. 


159 

in the flesh ere it dropped to the ground, and was smashed 
under the disgusted Thad’s heel. 

“ Gee Whittaker, that feels good ! ” he muttered, grimly, 
surveying the red spot on his wrist. 

“Feels natural, don’t it.? One more don’t make much 
difference. I’m just a mess of lumps,” said Dick, who was 
too tired, sore, and out of breath to cry if he had wanted to. 

“ If you are all lumps, what am I .? ” replied Thad, taking 
off his hat, and feeling of his sore cranium. 

“ Same thing, only more lumps, I suppose. Gee, but Fm 
sore ! ” groaned Dick. 

“ Come on ; let’s go home, and see if mamma knows of 
anything to stop the pain,” said Thad, rising stiffly, and 
starting toward home. 

“ I’ve a good notion to get the gun, and go back and blow 
that nest to flinders,” remarked Dick, vengefully. 

“ Excuse me. I haven’t lost any more hornets’ nests just 
at present,” observed Thad, sagely. 

“ Well, it makes me so mad to think we have been done 
up by a mess of hornets,” said Dick, rebelliously. 

“ I feel just like you do, but the next time I tackle a hor- 
nets’ nest, it will be in the middle of the winter, when the 
pesky critters are frozen stiff,” remarked Thad. 

“ I wonder if that ain’t what makes the wadding so power- 
ful,” said Dick, as they walked along. 

“ What is that .? ” 

“ ’Cause it’s so hard to get,” replied Dick. 

“ If the wadding is half as powerful as the hornets, I don’t 
wonder it will kill a quarter of a mile,” said Thad, with grim 
facetiousness. 

“ What will we do about telling papa .? ” he added. “ I hate 
to give up the idea of fooling him ; but he’s so sharp, he’ll 


i6o 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


find this scrape out, and we can’t get that nest until 
winter.” 

How is he going to find it out if we don’t tell him } ” 
inquired Dick, feeling gingerly of a sore spot over his left 
eye. 

‘‘ Oh, how does he find anything out } He can see through 
the side of a house,” asserted Thad. 

Suppose we tell him how we got stung, but not tell him 
what we were after ; he don’t know anything about the wad- 
ding, so he won’t be any wiser, and we can get the nest 
during the winter, and use it next spring,” suggested Dick. 

“ It’s an awful long while to wait, but maybe we can’t do 
any better,” sighed Thad, who had set his heart on using 
the magic wads the next day. 

The boys looked like the breaking up of a hard winter, as 
they walked dejectedly into the house. 

Mrs. Kingston took one look at their woebegone appear- 
ance, and threw up her hands in alarm. 

Goodness mercy ! where have you been, and what is the 
matter > ” she cried, hurrying up to them. 

“ Hornets,” said Dick, briefly, in a tone that spoke volumes. 

What’s good to take the soreness out of these jabs } ” 
inquired Thad, feeling around over his anatomy to see if he 
had mislaid the location of any of them. 

“ They say ammonia is good,” replied his mother, hurrying 
away after the aqua ammonia bottle. 

“ Does that soothe the pain any, Thad } ” she inquired after 
applying the ammonia. 

“Yes, a lot,” replied Thad, heaving a sigh of relief. 

“Why, Dick Kingston, you are just covered with stings,” 
said his mother, with anxious solicitude, as she applied the 
soothing alkali to the venomous acid stings. 


HORNETS^ NEST WADDING. 


6l 


^‘You may not believe me, mamma, but I discovered that 
fact some time ago,” replied Dick, making a grotesque attempt 
at a smile. 

‘‘For heaven’s sake, Dick, don’t try to laugh while you are 
in that fix. Your face would scare a mud-turtle into a spasm,” 
said Thad, with a look of concern. 

“ If I am any homelier than you are, I must look awful. 
Let’s see you try to laugh,” remarked Dick. 

The fact of talking about laughing, caused Thad to 
unconsciously screw up his features in an attempt at a 
smile. 

“ There, there, that will do ; please don’t try any more. 
I’ll dream of that mug of yours, all night. That lump on 
your upper lip, and the one on your jaw, just sets you off ; 
a glimpse of you would give a skunk typhoid fever,” said 
Dick, turning away his head. 

“How did the hornets happen to attack you.^” inquired 
Mrs. Kingston, after she had finished her task. 

“ Oh, Thad supposed he had found an old dead hornets’ 
nest, and hit it a swat with a club ; but the hornets happened 
to be in there having a four o’clock tea, or something, and 
they got hot about it, and about a million chased out and hit 
us a swat apiece,” said Dick, looking at Thad, with a peculiar 
expression. ^ 

“I didn’t know hornets were so infernal particular about 
a little thing like that. If I had thought they were going to 
make such a fuss over it, I wouldn’t have thrown the club. 
But we have to live and learn, don’t we, Dick .? I feel as 
though my hornet education had received a great impetus,” 
said Thad. 

“ I think so, too. I noticed the hornets gave us a great 
impetus toward home,” remarked Dick. 


i 62 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Let’s go out and unchain Bruno, and see if he knows 
us,” suggested Thad. 

Bruno seemed to be aware that something had gone wrong. 
He sniffed around the boys, and looked them over solemnly, 
asdf to find out what the trouble was. 

Bruno, you want to thank your stars you are a dog, 
instead of a fool-boy,” said Thad, patting him on the head. 

Gee, but you do look hard,” said Dick, taking a critical 
survey of his brother. 

couldn’t look as homely as you do, if I tried for a 
week,” was the reply. 

‘‘You can look homelier than I do, without trying,” said 
Dick, briefly. 

The following morning, both boys were stiff and sore. 

They arose later than usual, and came down-stairs as 
though walking on eggs. 

Their father was reading, but laid aside his book and 
said : 

“ Good morning, boys. What is this mother tells me, about 
your having a row with some hornets ? Why, you are both 
as stiff as an old foundered horse. Tell me how you happened 
to get into such a scrape.” 

“ There isn’t much to tell. Only we had a row, and got 
the worst of it,” replied Thad. 

“ I should say you did get the worst of it. You are the 
two worst bunged-up looking boys I ever saw. You look as 
though you had been fooling with a Kansas whirlwind.” 

“We were, and the whirlwind caught us,” replied Thad. 

“We feel just as tough as we look,” said Dick, seating 
himself tenderly in a cushioned rocking-chair. 

“You were trying to get some hornets’ nest wadding, of 
course,” said Mr. Kingston, in an off-hand way. 


HORNETS' NEST WADDING. 1 63 

“ Some what ! ” gasped Thad, looking at his father, and 
then at Dick, in petrified amazement. 

Hornets’ nest wadding,” repeated his father, eyeing him 
curiously. 

The boys looked at each other, and then at their father, in 
silent wonder. Then Thad turned to Dick and said, quietly : 

What did I tell you } ” 

Where did yott ever hear of hornets’ nest wadding } ” 
inquired Dick, in a chagrined and somewhat defiant 
tone. 

Now Kingston was a keen, shrewd observer. To use 
Thad’s admiring expression, “he was sharper than tacks.” 

The blank looks and surprised expressions, together with 
their adventure, told him the whole story. They had been 
regaled by some one with the usual yarn about hornets’ nest 
wadding. 

“ I heard of it when I was younger than you, Dick. I was 
stuffed full of lies, along with the rest of the boys, and nearly 
got stung to death trying to get it.” 

“Ain’t it as good as they say it is.?” asked Thad, 
mentally watching a great big air castle crumble to the 
ground. 

“ No earthly account. No better than an old newspaper. 
A box of the felt wads we use, is worth a ton of it,” replied 
his father. 

“Is that so .? Gee, Dick, but we was lied to, awful ! ” said 
Thad. 

^ “You and Dick must have got it worse than I did. You 
see, nearly every boy, when he begins to hunt, passes through 
this same experience. Some unscrupulous older person gets 
hold of him, and knowing his credulity, tells him some kind 
of a story about this wadding and the great things it will do. 


164 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


I do not believe in deceiving boys, and I meant to have told 
you about this hornets’ nest sell, and warn you to be on your 
guard for a big yarn, but it slipped my mind.” 

I am awful sorry you forgot it. It would have saved us 
a big assortment of sore spots, wouldn’t it, Dick } ” 

“ About four hundred, I figure,” replied that gentleman, 
after feeling of his ‘‘spots.” 

“ Well, boys, you have both been lied to and stung, and I 
have been lied to and stung. All the fun I see we can get 
out of it, is to compare lies. I heard of it when I was 
between ten and eleven. A big lout of a young fellow told 
me, together with two or three other boys of my age. I 
never knew whether he believed the §tory himself, or lied to 
us purposely, because we were small and ready to swallow 
anything. However, it makes little difference. He told us 
it was the strongest and best wadding that ever was known. 
It would kill farther, and keep a gun cleaner, and did not 
require so much ammunition. 

“We swallowed the yarn at a gulp, and started to look 
for a hornets’ nest. Found it without much difficulty; got 
chased and stung, and our clothes torn. Captured it finally, 
and after using it, discovered that we had been duped, and 
its magical properties were all a myth. 

“ Now, if you boys can remember where you heard of it, 
who told you, and how big a lie they told, we can compare 
stories.” 

“We never heard anything about it until yesterday,” 
replied Thad. “We were down to the river at noon, in old 
man Fisher’s house-boat, and Fisher told us about it. Dick 
and I have been down there several times, and Fisher seemed 
to take quite a fancy to us ; so yesterday, after making us 
promise not to tell any one else, he told us about hornets’ 


HORNETS^ NEST WADDING. 165 

nests for wadding. He said an old Dutch doctor told him 
about it, back east, years ago.” 

What did he claim it would do } ” asked Mr. Kingston. 

“ Fisher didn’t seem to know much about it except what 
had been told him. He said he had never taken the trouble 
to get any, but that old doctor told him it would kill a 
quarter of a mile.” 

“ A quarter of a mile ! Great Scott ! I should say you 
had been getting a dose,” said Mr. Kingston, in astonishment. 

“ And he said it would shoot just exactly so far, and kill, 
and an inch farther the shot would not go through paper,” 
continued Thad. 

Really, is it possible a man could make up such a 
whopper as that, and tell it with a straight face ? ” said his 
father, in amazement. 

“That isn’t' much to what he said about it,” chimed in 
Dick. “He said you couldn’t kill anything with it except 
game. That it wouldn’t shoot with any force toward any- 
thing else.” 

“Worse and worse. Or rather, better and better. That 
old Dutch doctor must have sat up nights, to manufacture 
that mess of yarns. He ought to have a chromo,” laughed 
Kingston. 

“And Fisher said he told him that when you shot at game, 
it didn’t make any difference whether you aimed exactly right 
or not ; if you shot within a certain circle, the game would 
draw the shot like a magnet,” said Thad. 

“ That is another new variation. That old Dutch doctor 
was evidently no ordinary mortal. His facilities for plain 
and fancy lying were unsurpassed. In fact, I don’t know that 
I ever heard his equal. 

“ There is always somebody waiting to stuff boys with the 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


1 66 

old hornets’ nest yarn, but that old doctor seems to have made 
a specialty of it.” 

“He certainly filled us up, clear to the neck,” said Thad, 
in disgust. 

“ Of course it is possible that this old doctor is a myth, 
and Fisher made up these yarns himself, out of whole cloth ; 
but it hardly seems probable that an ignorant trapper could 
get up such a string of fibs.” 

“ If I thought Fisher made up the story he told us, I would 
go and shoot a hole through his old house-boat,” said Dick, 
indignantly. 

“Tut, tut, Dick, don’t be revengeful,” said Mr. Kingston, 
gently. 

“ The chances are ten to one, the old man was lied to as 
badly as you were. He just merely passed the story along.” 

“ No, there is no use of us getting mad about it, Dick. We 
will just have to bury it alongside of Santa Claus, and Jack 
the Giant-Killer, and a lot of other rot we swallowed for 
years,” said Thad. 

“ I guess you boys were intending to play a joke on your 
old father, and not let him into the secret of that wadding, if 
it had panned out as you had expected,” said Mr. Kingston, 
turning to Dick. 

“ Yes, sir,” acknowledged Dick, who was just sore and 
disappointed enough to own up to anything. “ We were 
going to fool you to the top of your bent ; we were going to 
kill ducks way up among the clouds, and make you pay us 
a royalty for telling you how we did it.” 

“ I thought we three were partners, and were to tell each 
other all of our scrapes and troubles,” remarked Mr. Kings- 
ton, with a quizzical look. 

“We are. But can’t a fellow play a joke on his partner } 


HORNETS' NEST WADDING. 1 6 / 

We were going to tell you all about it after having some fun 
with you.” 

“I suppose it is all right, only, as it panned out, the joke 
was on the other foot,” said Mr. Kingston. 

“ On the other head, you mean,” replied Thad, grinning. 

“The back of my neck caught a big share of that joke,” 
remarked Dick. 

“ When any one tells you big stories after this, come to 
me before trying to investigate them, and it may save you 
both lots of trouble,” observed their father, rising, as Mrs. 
Kingston appeared with the welcome call to breakfast. 

“ I know I don’t investigate any more hornets’ nests 
right away, if I know it,” said Thad, seating himself at the 
table. 

“Nor I, either. Hornets do too much investigating on 
their own hook,” assented Dick, as he prepared for a 
vigorous onslaught on his breakfast. 

“What makes grown folks tell boys such awful lies.?” 
asked Thad. 

“ Because they know boys will believe them,” replied his 
father. 

“ I’d like to be twenty-one, and meet that old Dutch 
doctor out in the road. I’d make a sick-looking Dutch 
doctor out of him. I’d teach him to lie to people,” said 
Dick, with a ferocious look. 

“ I have a better scheme than that,” said Thad. “ Find a 
hornets’ nest, and tie him close to it. Then hide, and stir 
up the hornets.” 


CHAPTER XL 


A DUCK CONVENTION. 


NE hazy, peaceful Saturday in October, shortly after 



the boys had recovered from the effects of their frolic 
with the hornets, they started down on the bottoms with their 
inseparable companion, Bruno. 

Mr. Kingston had some correspondence to attend to, and 
did not accompany them that day. 

The Mississippi bottoms, we will remark if we have not 
done so before, were something of a flatiron shape, the point 
of which ended at the Kingston home, where the river again 
touched the bluff. Below, the river and bluff separated rap- 
idly, the low land broadening out into a wide bottom that 
extended for miles, when the river again touched the wooded 
hills. The boys had never been to the lower end of the 
bottoms, their hunting, so far, being confined to the upper 
end. 

A belt of woods extended along the river, the whole length 
of the bottoms, filled with lakes large and small, which, with 
the numerous rice lakes on the open meadow, formed one 
of the finest wild fowl grounds in the country. 

There were no large towns near, so the grounds were not 
hunted to death, farmer boys and the residents of the little 
village of T comprising most of the shooters. 

Suppose we go down to that big rice lake in the edge of 
woods ; we never was there but once,” remarked Thad. 

1 68 


A DUCK CONVENTION. 


169 


“I’m agreed,” replied Dick, and they headed that way. 

This lake was farther to the south than they had been 
accustomed to hunting, and was a resort for. nearly every 
variety of wild fowl, on account of its size and the abundance 
of several different kinds of food. 

The boys went in at the north end and walked through 
the rushes to the open water. 

A regiment of ducks, large and small, arose with a great 
flutter of wings. Some of them circled about and dropped 
back into the lake ; others headed over the woods toward 
the Mississippi ; while many drifted to the other lakes on the 
bottoms. 

“ Let’s sit on this rat-house in the rushes, and maybe 
some of these gentlemen will loaf in this direction,” said 
Thad. 

“ Here comes four, right at us,” said Dick, as a bunch of 
gadwells headed for their blind. 

“ Shoot first, they are on your side,” whispered Thad. 

At the report of Dick’s gun, the leader wilted and splashed 
in the water, causing Bruno to prick up his ears and look 
interested. 

As the ducks scattered, Dick killed one with his second 
barrel and Thad made a beautiful long shot, killing one dead, 
high in the air. 

At the reports, the ducks again arose from the lake, but 
the weather was warm and still, making them disinclined to 
fly ; so most of them, after circling once or twice, dropped 
back in the lake once more. 

Bruno retrieved the dead ducks handsomely, and just as he 
walked up to the blind with the last one, Thad whispered : 

“ Here comes an old mallard right close to us, watch me 
cut him in two.” 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


170 

The duck was not ten yards distant, and unsuspicious of 
danger, when Thad fired. 

It was a foolish thing for him to do, as the mallard was 
too close and would have been spoiled for food if struck 
fairly. 

His aim was poor, however, and he only burnt the green- 
head’s tail. 

He was feeling sorry for the duck before he fired, but his 
failure to kill irritated him, and he mentally vowed to break 
every bone in that duck’s body. His second barrel missed 
just as clean, and then Dick laughed derisively. 

You can’t shoot ; let your uncle show you how to smash 
him,” and Dick levelled his gun. 

He fired both barrels in quick succession, and the drake, 
still an easy shot, flew on down the lake, nearly frightened 
into a fit. 

“Well, I’ll be darned,” was Dick’s comment, as he watched 
the escaping greenhead. 

“ What do you want to be darned for ? ” inquired Thad, 
who was rapidly reloading. 

“ Where could we have shot, to miss that duck with four 
barrels } ” said Dick, as he reloaded with a crestfallen air. 

“I’ll give it up. I know where we didn’t shoot, 
though.” 

“ Where is that ? ” asked Dick. 

“At the duck. I ought to have had more sense than to 
shoot at a duck as close as that, anyhow.” 

“ It’s a mighty lucky thing for that mallard we didn’t have 
hornets’ nest wadding,” observed Dick. 

“Yes, we would have shot the bowels right out of him. 
At that distance the duck would have drawn the shot right 
out of the gun, without shooting.” 


A DUCK CONVENTION. 


171 

It was too fine a day for wild fowl to fly much. They 
were fat and lazy, and preferred eating to flying. 

The boys sat on the rat-house for half an hour without 
getting another shot. 

Occasionally a flock drifted in from the bottoms or river, 
but they dropped into the water at once and went to feeding. 

Dick became restless, and remarked : 

“ I am going down to the lake below ; maybe I can scare 
up some and give you a shot.” 

‘‘All right. You take Bruno; I’ll kill everything that 
comes here,” replied Thad. 

Dick departed, and Thad settled himself comfortably on 
the rat-house. 

It was a warm, quiet, lazy day ; no ducks were flying, and 
before Thad knew it he was nodding. Once or twice he 
caught himself in the act, and roused up, only to nod again. 

Presently he was astonished to hear a voice say : 

We must do something at once to save our lives. There 
sits one of them now, on that muskrat-house. Can’t we tie 
his hands some way ? ” 

Thad peered through the rushes, and was thunderstruck to 
see a great mass of ducks in the lake, some of them within a 
few yards of him. 

He had not seen them come in the lake, and greatly won- 
dered how they got there. His first thought was to pick up 
his gun and mow a swath through the flock, but when he 
tried to move, he found himself held motionless by some 
invisible power. 

Pretty soon he heard another voice, that he recognised 
to be a gadwell’s, say : 

It is all well enough to talk about tying his hands, but 
how are we going to do it ? I don’t want to get near them 


1/2 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


again, if I can help it. Four of us flew up the lake a little 
while ago, and this one and his brother were hid in the 
rushes, and killed all three of my mates ; I barely escaped 
with my life. Oh, it is terrible,” and the distressed gad well 
wrung its feet and wept bitterly. 

The other ducks tried to comfort the poor gadwell, as 
many of them had lost relatives, and besides had troubles 
of their own, in the shape of stray shot pellets, lodged in 
their bodies. 

A big mallard, with an agitated voice, and a limp, spoke up : 

“ My friends, what this persecuted gadwell says is only 
too true. I can bear witness that they are a murderous pair 
of little rascals, and should be disposed of in some manner. 
They are learning to shoot altogether too well for our 
health. Their father is teaching them, and he is one of the 
best shots in the country. I know it, for I have seen him 
kill hundreds of my relatives. 

“Just a few moments after the gadwell massacre this morn- 
ing, as I was coming down to attend this convention, these 
two boys nearly murdered me in cold blood, right here at the 
head of the lake. 

“ I owe my life to the fact that I was too close to them ; 
they fired four barrels at me, not more than two wing-flaps 
distant. One of them singed my tail feathers, so I can 
barely use it for a rudder. I tell you it is a terrible feeling 
to have a charge of shot pass within a few inches of you and 
not know but the next barrel may fill you full of lead. The 
fright I received this morning has made me so nervous, I 
fear my heart is affected permanently.” 

The big greenhead looked very sad and depressed, as he 
finished his remarks, and a wave of horror rippled over the 
assemblage, at the recital of his narrow escape. 


A DUCK CONVENTION. 


173 


“ I know all about them,” spoke up a big Canada goose. 

Just about a year ago, the largest boy killed my mate, dead, 
and put several shot slanting up through my breast, so I was 
nearly the entire summer recovering from the effects of the 
wound. They are getting to be a nuisance on these bottoms ; 
I would like to get a good stroke at one of them with my 
right wing. The left one is still lame from a shot wound,” 
and the big Canada swam majestically about among the 
admiring ducks, that got respectfully out of his way and gave 
him plenty of room. 

‘‘ I don’t see anything very terrible about these boys,” 
spoke up a little blue-wing teal. “ My mother has told me 
about them. She said that a year ago last September, she 
was with the first flight that came down from the North, and 
these boys shot at them all one day, and only killed one. So 
they can’t be very dangerous.” 

“ Have you had either of these boys shoot at you lately t ” 
inquired a pintail, severely. 

“ No, I never saw either of them before. I just came 
down from the North. I was only born last spring,” replied 
the teal, modestly. 

thought so,” said the pintail, decisively. ‘‘And now 
let me give you some later advice. Keep away from them. 
Since your mother told you that story, these boys have been 
receiving instructions from their father. I tell you they are 
getting to be bad medicine, and they are always on the look- 
out for young, fat, juicy teal,” and the pintail gave the youth- 
ful teal a look that caused that plump party to glance about 
uneasily, and slowly swim toward the foot of the lake. 

“ Oh, pshaw ! I ain’t afraid of them,” said a handsome 
little bufflehead, jauntily. “ I think, with blue-wing teal, that 
you folks are making altogether too much fuss about being 


174 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


afraid of these boys. I have passed them several times this 
fall, and I am alive yet. Just fly a little faster when you 
pass them, and they can’t hurt you.” 

“You talk like a fool,” said a widgeon, savagely. “How 
are we to know when to fly faster } They are always hid in 
the rushes or woods.” 

“ Oh, don’t pay any attention to what that little snip says. 
There isn’t enough of him to plug a rat -hole, when the feath- 
ers are picked off, and he thinks the rest of us are built the 
same way,” said a redhead, contemptuously. 

“ Are you sure the buffleheads have a voice in this conven- 
tion It seems to me they ought to be classed with the 
crows and bitterns,” said a big canvasback, swimming up to 
the contending parties, and eyeing the little bufflehead with 
disdain. 

“ Do you mean to insult me, sir ? My family is just as 
respectable as yours, if we are not so big and clumsy,” 
retorted the bufflehead, flaming up. 

“No, I don’t think that is possible, after the heartless 
remarks you just made,” replied his burly antagonist, 
calmly. 

The bufflehead, nearly beside itself with rage, made a rush 
for the canvasback, and, catching a bunch of feathers in its 
bill, pulled with all its strength. 

The canvasback tried to strike the little fellow with his 
wings, while the friends of each gathered around, quacking 
and jabbering, calling for fair play, and trying to separate 
the combatants. 

For a moment it looked as though the convention would 
break up in a general row, but finally the belligerent ducks 
were pulled apart and taken aside to cool off, while the work 
of the convention proceeded. 





WOOD DUCK. 




A DUCK CONVENTION. 


175 


“ My friends,” said a wood-duck, sadly, “ it pains me 
greatly to see our deliberations disturbed in such an unseemly 
manner. 

“ Heaven knows we have troubles enough without quarrel- 
ling among ourselves. My family is probably persecuted more 
than any of you, as many of us nest right here, and conse- 
quently have to bear the brunt of the shooting until the rest 
of you come down from the North. 

“These wicked men and boys hunt us from the time we 
leave the egg, almost. Every year we are becoming less 
numerous on these bottoms, and in a few years, if something 
is not done to stop the slaughter, we will go with our friends 
of long ago, — the buffalo and Indian. 

“ I am glad to see so many delegates here, and I sincerely 
hope that nothing more will happen to mar the harmony of 
our proceedings, and that something will be done to drive 
away these terrible duck hunters.” 

The wood-duck was so affected by its own remarks that it 
was obliged to wipe its eyes with a bit of lily-pad, as it 
retired amid quacks of applause. 

Here a drake bluebill, that had kept in the background, 
swam forward and said : 

“ Mr. President, I fully agree with the remarks just made 
by our esteemed relative, the wood-duck. We should do some- 
thing at once, or we are surely doomed to extermination. 
My family has suffered more than I care to remember, but 
what shall we do We cannot, as some of you suggest, tie 
this boy’s hands, as we have no rope. We cannot drown 
him, as he is too strong. It occurs to me that the most 
feasible plan is this : Arrange ourselves in one long line, 
single file. At a given signal, fly rapidly past him, and each 
give him a peck in the eyes as we pass. I think there are 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


176 

enough of us to put out both of his eyes. What say 
you ” 

A murmur of applause and admiration greeted these bold 
remarks, and Thad, sitting on the rat-house, began to feel 
uneasy, and made a fruitless effort to reach his gun, but, 
fortunately, a diversion occurred in his favour. 

A plebeian mud-hen, skirmishing for something to eat, had 
swum into the convention, uninvited and unannounced, and 
sat listening to the various complaints. 

As the bluebill ceased speaking, the unwelcome visitor 
broke out into a derisive laugh. 

“Afraid of two little boys; you are a brave lot of jays, 
ain’t you } My advice is to get a crop full of rice, and then 
go soak your heads. I have lived here for two years, and 
never had a shot fired at me. Your troubles are all in your 
minds, or your livers.” 

Having delivered itself of these unwelcome remarks, the 
mud-hen paddled off in the erratic, disjointed manner peculiar 
to no other bird, and began nosing around among the indig- 
nant ducks for more provender. 

It had hardly wet its bill in the water, when a lithe, long- 
necked pintail sprang out from among the audience, and 
exclaimed, with flashing eyes : 

“ Mr. President, I arise to a question of muscle. I love 
peace as dearly as any duck on earth, but darn me if I am 
going to let a flabby, worthless, chicken-billed mud-hen come 
in this convention, and tell a respectable assemblage of ducks 
their business. With your permission. I’ll lam the stuffing 
out of this scum of the marsh.” 

And the irate pintail, without waiting for the aforesaid per- 
mission, flew at the obnoxious mud-hen, and kicked, slapped, 
pounded, and pecked that poor fowl till the water fairly boiled. 


A DUCK CONVENTION. 


77 


Amid quacks of “ Give it to him ; that’s right, break his 
neck,” etc., the shrill voice of a green-wing teal was heard 
above the din. 

Fly, fly, for your lives ; an army of hawks is coming ! ” 

Such a quacking, fluttering, and flapping of wings Thad 
had never seen before. 

Looking to the west, he saw a vast swarm of the dreaded 
hawks coming like the wind. 

Once more he made a desperate effort to lift his gun, and 
— awoke. 

He rubbed his eyes and stared about in a half-dazed way 
for a moment, then pulled his wits together, and realised that 
he had been asleep. 

His gun lay at full cock beside him on the rat-house, where 
he had placed it, convenient for a sudden shot. 

Somewhat stiff from lying in a cramped position, he arose, 
and it did feel good to straighten out his legs again. His 
dream seemed so real that he involuntarily looked around, 
half expecting to see a cloud of fleeing ducks and pursuing 
hawks ; but excepting one hawk lazily patrolling the air, and 
a small bunch of ducks circling over an adjoining lake, none 
were in sight. 

On the lake below him a few scattered mud-hens loafed 
aimlessly about, looking for something to eat, as usual, each 
one paddling its own canoe, and apparently paying no atten- 
tion to the others. 

A few flocks of ducks were bunched about over the lake, 
with submerged bills, industriously feeding. 

Goodness me ! Is it possible that was all a dream .? ” mut- 
tered Thad, aloud, his mind reverting to the duck convention. 

It must, though. I’m a great hunter to fall asleep in a 
blind! Gee, but didn’t that pintail make it warm for the 


1/8 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


mud-hen, though!” and Thad laughed aloud at thought of 
the ludicrous sight. 

“ I wonder how long I slept, and where Dick is.” 

Looking at the sun, Thad found he had slept an hour or 
two, and, as it was now after noon, he felt hungry. 

The boys did not leave home until nearly ten o’clock, and 
fortunately had taken the precaution to each put a big bread 
and ham sandwich in their hunting-coat pockets. 

Thad was positive that he never remembered setting his 
teeth into anything half so delicious as that sandwich. 

He had half finished it, and was eyeing the last half regret- 
fully to think it was not four times as big, when, looking to 
the south, he saw something that caused him to quickly 
deposit the remnant of his sandwich on top of the rat-house, 
and grasp his gun. 

The reason was apparent. Four geese were coming up 
the lake along the west shore, and only a few yards high. 

Thad’s eyes sparkled, as he watched the big birds closely, 
mentally figuring if it were possible to get all four of them 
with two barrels. 

Suddenly, he saw a puff of smoke shoot out from the 
rushes, and one of the geese folded its wings and crashed 
into the water and rushes. 

Another puff followed, and another goose came down. 

wonder if it’s Dick. Gee, I hope whoever it is will 
leave some for me,” muttered Thad. 

The remaining two geese came past him, a beautiful shot, 
and his soul thrilled with joy, as he saw both of them tumble 
head over heels, one after the other, as the report of both 
barrels of his gun rang out. 

He had just retrieved them and got into the blind, when 
he observed Dick and Bruno coming up the lake. 


A DUCK CONVENTION. 


79 


“So it was you that killed those two geese,” he remarked, 
as Dick came into the little clearing by the rat-house, and 
threw down two geese and a mallard, exclaiming, as he dropped 
on the house : 

“ Hully gee, maybe you think I ain’t tired. I have walked 
off the first four inches of my legs.” 

“Where have you been ? ” asked Thad. 

“ Oh, tramping around to different lakes. I must have 
walked about thirteen miles. There isn’t much flying. I 
jumped and killed this mallard, and missed two more shots. 
If I hadn’t seen these geese, I wouldn’t have got much. I 
wish papa would get those decoys.” 

“ Have you eaten your sandwich yet ? ” inquired Thad. 

“ Have I eaten it ? Of course I have, and licked the 
crumbs off my fingers. I wish I had six more just like it,” 
replied Dick, hungrily. 

“I was just eating mine when I saw those geese coming. 
Take half of what’s left ; you have exercised more than I 
have,” said Thad, generously dividing his piece of sandwich, 
and Dick, nothing loth, accepted the bounty gratefully. 

“ That was pretty good goose-shooting for a couple of boys, 
wasn’t it ? But they are lots smaller than the big one you 
killed,” said Dick, as he licked up the last crumb of his 
donation. 

“ Maybe they are young ones. But say, it’s mighty lucky 
they didn’t come ten minutes sooner,” remarked Thad. 

“ Why.?” 

“ Because I was asleep. Snored away here for an hour or 
more, and I had the funniest dream you ever heard. Thought 
the ducks had a convention here on the lake, to see if they 
couldn’t do something to stop you and me from shooting 
them,” and Thad told Dick his dream. 


i8o 


THE BOY DUCK HUN TEES. 


“That was a queer dream. So the bufflehead thought we 
wasn’t much good. I’ll just lay for them. What will we do 
now } ” 

“ Oh, let’s sit here awhile, and see if the ducks come in this 
lake much to feed.” 

As the afternoon waned, ducks began dropping in to feed, 
giving the boys an occasional shot ; but the lake was too 
large to give them much shooting without the help of decoys, 
and they did not care to wait for the evening flight, as they 
had a goodly distance to go, and quite a load to carry 
already. 

During the afternoon they were treated to an odd sight. 

A big mallard was sailing around along the west shore, 
close to the water. He was lower than the highest rushes, 
and looking for a place to alight. He was so much pre- 
occupied with his own affairs that he failed to see a bunch of 
green-wing teal coming from the west, just skipping the rushes. 

They were going very swiftly, evidently bound for some 
mud-bank near the river. Suddenly there was a collision. 
The centre of the flock struck that mallard, tipping him a 
somersault in the air. The teal separated, like a school of 
minnows when something is thrown among them, came 
together a few feet farther on, and dashed away on their 
course, apparently none the worse for the mishap. 

The mallard seemed to have had his feelings hurt by the 
unceremonious treatment, and hurried away to some other 
lake, where teal were more polite. 

“Gee, I’ll bet that mallard’s ears ring,” laughed Dick, as 
he witnessed this unusual sight. 

“ It’s a wonder to me some of those teal didn’t get knocked 
galley-west, but they seem to be just like rubber balls,” 
remarked Thad, in astonishnient. 


A DUCK CONVENTION. iSl 

Don’t you think we had better go home? We have 
quite a ways to go, and I am just simply starved. There 
is nothing left of me but my backbone and ribs. I could eat 
one of Bruno’s hind legs,” said Dick, appealingly. 

“I guess so. Eight ducks and four geese are a pretty 
good load. We’ll be tired enough when we get them home,” 
replied Thad. 

I’m rather glad these geese are small. They are easier 
to carry,” remarked Dick, as he shouldered his share of the 
plump geese. 

As Thad surmised, they were tired enough when they 
arrived home. 

Dick began to clamour for something to eat before he 
was fairly in the house. 

Mamma, come and take a good look at me, and then 
hurry and get supper,” he cried, sinking into a chair. 

“ Well, Dick, what is it ? You look natural. What is the 
matter ? ” asked his mother, surveying him affectionately. 

There ain’t anything the matter. Only now, when you 
are with folks who are bragging about what they have seen, 
you can tell them you once saw the hungriest boy that ever 
tramped the meadows thick with dew. Now hurry and get 
supper,”' he said, impressively, as he pulled off his rubber 
boots. 

“ Hello, boys, you must have struck a goose mine ! Four 
geese ; that is something unusual,” said Mr. Kingston, coming 
in the summer kitchen where the boys were changing their 
clothes. 

‘‘ What kind are they ? ” asked Thad. 

“They are the Hutchins goose. Just like the Canadas, 
only smaller. How did you happen to get four of them ? ” 

“ We killed all we saw. Didn’t we, Dick ? There was 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


182 

four in the flock, and Dick killed two, and I two,” replied 
Thad. 

“ Well and truly told. Had there been more geese, they 
would now be lying in the cold embrace of death,” said Dick, 
in a tragic voice. 

<^For goodness sake, what ails that boy.^ Has he gone 
crazy } ” said Thad, gazing at his brother in astonishment. 

Yes, my friends. You see before you a small boy crazed 
with hunger,” replied Dick. 

“ ril go in and help mamma get supper, and see if we 
can’t get you filled up,” remarked Thad, arising. 

“Supper is all ready,” announced his mother, appearing at 
the door. 

Dick made a rush for the dining-room, nearly upsetting 
his mother in his haste, and the way food disappeared 
around his plate was a caution. In fact, Thad afterward 
claimed that it actually made him cry to watch Dick eat. 

“ Thad, tell papa that wonderful dream you had when you 
fell asleep in the blind,” said Dick, after he had partially 
filled the aching void in his interior. 

Thad told his strange experience while asleep on the 
muskrat-house. 

“ An odd dream, Thad. I suppose it was caused by 
missing that mallard with four barrels,” said Mr. Kingston, 
with a quiet wink at Dick. 

“ I suppose you have seen lots of strange sights, and made 
lots of unexpected shots, in the years you have hunted,” said 
Thad. 

“Yes, any number of them,” replied his father. 

“ What was the most wonderful shot you ever made, 
papa } ” inquired Dick. 

“ I hardly know, Dick, I have made so many. I have fired 


A DUCK CONVENTION, 


183 


a broadside into a hundred closely massed blue-wing teal, 
without ruffling a feather, and I have shot one barrel at a 
butterball going ninety miles an hour in a high wind, and killed 
it stone dead ; but I think the most wonderful shot I ever 
made was with a rifle.” 

“Tell us about it ; I am just full enough to listen,” 
remarked Dick. 

“ It happened when I was about seventeen years of age, 
when I lived in the country. I owned an old rusty muzzle- 
loading rifle that I used to amuse myself with, shooting 
gophers, blackbirds, or whatever came in range. One rainy 
day I saw a blackbird alight on a post in the yard. 

“ Of course the old rifle was loaded at once, and I stepped 
out on the back porch to try my skill. 

“ Twenty yards beyond the post on which the blackbird was 
sitting, was a tight board fence, and beyond that was the 
barn-yard. 

“ I aimed at the blackbird and fired offhand. The bullet 
wounded the bird, and went on through that tight board 
fence, into the barn-yard. 

“About twenty yards farther, it passed square through the 
neck of a big Brahma rooster, killing it instantly. Went 
twenty yards farther and killed another big Brahma rooster, 
striking it in the neck, also. I think that was the most won- 
derful shot I ever heard of, that I knew to be absolutely 
true.” ^ 

“I suppose if you hadn’t run out of roosters, the bullet 
would have killed more,” remarked Dick. 

“You must have loaded with hornets’ nest wadding,” ob- 
served Thad, which remark raised a general laugh. 

* An actual shot. — F% E. K. 


CHAPTER XII. 


TWO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOODS. 

D uring the following week, Thad and Dick went down 
on the bottoms two or three evenings after school, but 
when Saturday came they were just as eager to go again. 

Boys,” said Mr. Kingston after breakfast, I’ll tell you 
where I think we had better go to-day. You know where 
that narrow run goes in from the river and runs parallel with 
it, down about half a mile, and then widens into a shallow 
bay. That run is an excellent place to shoot bluebills ; it is 
a fly-way for them between the river and that bay, which is a 
favourite feeding-ground. If they are stirring, we will get 
some shooting, and Dick won’t have to wear his legs off, as it 
is almost like decoy shooting.” 

That suits me, and by the way, when are we going to get 
our decoys } ” remarked Dick. 

“They are ordered now, and should be here in a few 
days,” replied his father. “Now you boys go on down, and 
I will be there in about an hour. Go anywhere along the 
run ; sit perfectly still and the ducks will pass you not more 
than twenty yards distant. You know how to shoot on a 
pass.” 

“All right, sir,” replied Thad, and getting into their 
clothes and shouldering their guns, they started. 

The boys walked down through the woods until they were 
far enough south, and then turned east to the run. They 

184 


TWO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOODS. 1 85 

were within a few feet of the bank, when they discovered a 
man clad in the garb of a hunter, sitting with his back to a 
tree, evidently watching for wild fowl. 

The boys hesitated for a moment what to do, and just then 
the hunter discovered their presence. 

The boys politely said “Good morning,” but he paid no 
attention whatever to the salutation. Surveying them coolly 
for a moment, he said, roughly : 

“ If you children want to stay here and see me kill ducks, 
you want to sit down and keep quiet.” 

Mechanically Thad and Dick sank to the ground by a tree, 
and divided their attention between watching for ducks and 
observing the strange hunter. 

In a short time a pair of bluebills came up the run just 
above the water. The man got his gun into position, and, 
before the ducks were fairly abreast of him, fired. The ducks 
were not touched, and the boys heard him swear as he broke 
his gun, threw out the fired shells, and inserted fresh 
ones. 

It was the first breech-loader either had ever seen, and they 
stared a moment, and then Thad nudged Dick and whis- 
pered : “ See, he has one of those new kind of breech-loading 
guns papa told us about.” 

Ducks were flying fairly well, and soon the stranger 
obtained another shot, only to miss as before. Three or four 
times he did the same thing, muttering an oath every time 
he missed. 

Finally he growled out : 

“ Either you kids scare them, or else these shells are no 
good. I never missed that many ducks before in my life.” 

At the first shot the man fired, Thad made up his mind 
he was a novice, and the fellow’s remark that he never 


I 86 THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 

missed ducks Thad took with a grain of allowance, although 
he had been used to hearing the truth spoken. 

The next shot, the stranger crippled one of the rear ducks 
out of a small stringing flock, that fell a short distance up 
the run, on the opposite shore. 

Then his excitability showed that he had not been accus- 
tomed to killing ducks in very large numbers. 

“ Now, how the deuce (only he used a stronger term) will 
I get that duck ? I’ll give one of you boys a nickel to swim 
over and get it.” 

“ The dog will get it for you, sir,” replied Thad. 

The stranger looked at Bruno a moment, scornfully. 

Will that farm cur retrieve ducks ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Thad, choking down his indignation at 
hearing Bruno called a cur. 

“Yes, of course, let him get it if he can,” said the man, 
eagerly. 

Thad spoke to Bruno and motioned with his hand, without 
arising from his seat. 

The intelligent animal walked down to the run, swam 
across and hunted up to where the crippled duck was hiding, 
picked it up, came back, recrossed the run, and stood holding 
the duck in his mouth by the wing. 

The stranger rushed up with the eagerness of a boy to 
get the duck, but the dog growled and stood motionless, 
looking at Thad. 

“ What’s the matter with the cur ? ” said the man, peevishly, 
looking at Thad. 

“He is not used to hunting with strangers,” said Thad, 
taking the bird from Bruno’s mouth, and handing it to 
the man. 

The latter took it eagerly, wrung its neck, and sat down 


TWO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOOES, 1 8 / 

to wait for more. Thad gave the dog a pat on the head, 
and said, “ Come and lie down, Bruno.” 

He is quite a retriever. What will you take for him ? 
I’ll give you a dollar, although that’s more than he is 
worth.” 

“ He is not for sale,” replied Thad. 

Just as he was seating himself, a pair of bluebills came 
along, and seeing him, swerved over the timber. 

“ Why the devil can’t you keep still ! I’d have killed both 
of them,” growled the duck hunter, crossly. 

Thad was pretty thoroughly disgusted, by this time, with 
the fellow’s actions. It was his first introduction, out in the 
woods, to that kind of a person, and he was at a loss how to 
take him, or what to do. 

He felt like leaving, but he knew they would have to go a 
long ways up or down the run to get away from him, and he 
hoped his father would come soon. 

In a few minutes a sudden whim seized the hunter, and he 
said : 

I suppose you farmer boys shoot blackbirds. Some time 
come down here with your old muzzle-loader, and let’s see 
you try to hit a duck flying, then you can see how easy it is.” 

Under ordinary circumstances the boys would have de- 
clined, and walked away indignantly, but Thad was so dis- 
gusted at the fellow’s coarse, ungentlemanly actions, that he 
determined to show him that a farmer boy and a muzzle- 
loader could kill ducks. 

Without a word, he walked down, and seating himself on 
the bank, cocked his gun. 

Pretty soon the man said : 

‘‘Get your old gun ready, here comes one.” 

A bluebill came dashing along from the stranger’s side. 


88 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


passed him, and was even with Thad, but the latter had not 
made a move except to grip his gun a little tighter. 

“Why didn’t you shoot, you little simpleton, or let me,” 
said the stranger, angrily, turning to Thad. 

The words were hardly out of his mouth, ere the boy’s gun 
came to his shoulder and with surprising swiftness was thrown 
upon the fleeing duck, now several yards down the run. 

At the report of the gun, the bluebill went end over end 
into the water, dead. 

“ Ha, ha,” laughed the duck hunter, sarcastically. “ For- 
got to shoot, didn’t you, till I told you. You have got to be 
quicker on the trigger than that ; you wouldn’t kill another 
duck in a week that way. I’ll show you how to kill the 
next one.” 

Thad said nothing, but reloaded his despised muzzle-loader, 
and Bruno retrieved the duck. 

Shortly a pair of bluebills came along, and the man slowly 
raised his gun to his shoulder, took deliberate aim, and fired 
both barrels when the ducks were abreast of him. 

The birds went down the run with increased speed, and 
then Thad’s gun went to his face, and swung after them. A 
double report followed, ’and both bluebills lay floating on the 
water. 

The fellow was nearly beside himself with rage at having 
his eye wiped by a boy, and a supposed farmer, at that. 

When Thad made the second kill the man plainly saw it was 
not an accidental shot, but superior skill, and the fact only 
added to his ill-nature. But, with all his anger, he was 
shrewd enough to wait until the ducks were retrieved and in 
a pile. • 

Then he turned to Thad, fairly livid. 

“You think you are damned smart, don’t you, because you 


TIVO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOODS. 1 89 

have accidentally killed a duck or two with your old pot- 
metal gun ? I could kill ducks all around you if I wanted to. 
ril take the ducks and go ; there is enough for me.” 

So saying, he gathered up the ducks killed by Thad, and 
the one he had crippled, and stowed them in his hunting coat. 

‘'But you didn’t kill all of the ducks,” protested Thad, his 
cheek reddening with an indignant flash. 

“Shut up your mouth, or I’ll slap your face, you little 
whelp. I did, too, and I’m going to take them,” roared this 
big, chivalrous hunter, advancing toward Thad in a threaten- 
ing manner. 

A low growl attracted his attention, and, glancing down, 
his face paled as he saw Bruno ready to spring at his throat. 

It is uncertain what would have happened next, but at that 
instant they were all startled at hearing a ringing voice 
say : 

“Avast there, my friend, take somebody nearer your size.” 

All turned as they heard the voice, and Kingston stepped 
out of the woods and walked up to them. 

“You and Dick get back out of the way. Bruno, go and 
lie down. I’ll attend to this party.” 

Bruno turned away, growling, and the boys obeyed mechan- 
ically, for there was a look in their father’s eye they had 
never seen there before, and the keen ring of his voice, so 
different from his usual kind, jolly manner, made Thad 
shiver. 

The bullying hunter was evidently surprised at seeing a 
man, for he hurriedly stuffed the last duck in his pocket and, 
picking up his gun, prepared to leave. 

Now Kingston had witnessed the last half of the trouble. 

He came noiselessly through the woods, as he always did, 
and it occurred to him that, before making himself known, he 


1 90 THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 

would watch the boys shoot a few times and see how skilful 
they had become. 

Hearing the voice of a man, he stopped, and his anger, at 
seeing the fellow try to bully a boy of fourteen, was so great 
that it was with difficulty he could restrain himself. And 
when the bully started to slap Thad, he thought it time to 
interfere. 

Kingston was a man over six feet in height, strong, and 
lithe as a cat. In addition he was an athlete of no mean 
pretentions, and absolutely devoid of fear. 

Walking up to the fellow, he said, with cool, scornful 
sarcasm : 

“ You are a brave thing. I won’t call you a man, to bull- 
doze two little boys because you thought no men were around. 
I am ashamed of belonging to the same race you do. I have 
witnessed this whole thing. Take those ducks out of your 
pocket, and be quick about it.” 

His voice changed to a steely ring as he spoke the last 
words, and his eyes fairly glittered. 

The man was evidently ashamed at being caught doing 
such a mean, despicable thing, but Kingston’s sarcastic 
words stung him, and he replied, sullenly : 

“ I won’t do it. They are mine. That cub lied when he 
said he killed them.” 

The words were barely uttered, when Kingston’s right fist 
shot out, and caught him on the jaw with a force that fairly 
lifted him from the ground, and hurled him flat on his back, 
several feet away. 

He had no sooner fallen than his adversary, with a bound, 
stood over him. 

“ Now will you give up that boy’s ducks,, or do you want 
more medicine 


TJVO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOODS. I91 

Kingston spoke the words with contemptuous coolness, as 
he stood surveying his fallen foe. The effects of his knock- 
out blow on the stranger were curious, and Kingston would 
have laughed outright, had he not been so thoroughly angry 
and in earnest. 

The burly hunter who was so eager to slap Thad 
scrambled to his feet, with a white, scared face, and, 
hurriedly pulling the ducks from his pocket, grabbed his gun 
and hat, and started down the run at the top of his speed. 
As he disappeared in the woods, Thad turned to Dick. 

“ What does that remind you of ” 

“ Hornets’ nest wadding,” was the reply. 

Where did that fellow come from } ” asked Kings- 
ton. 

“ I don’t know ; he was here when we came. He has 
been swearing and growling at us all the time. Then I beat 
him shooting, and that is what made him so mad at me. 
What is the matter with him, is he crazy } ” said Thad. 

^‘No,” said his father, “he is one of a class of men that 
like to browbeat children, and show his importance gener- 
ally, when he thinks no one is around to resent it. I regret 
having to fight before you boys, but that fellow needed a 
lesson. He will not bother this locality again very soon, 
I fancy.” 

The trio seated themselves on the bank of the run, and 
took shot about for an hour, killing half a dozen birds, then 
Kingston said : 

“You boys watch the run, I am going back in the woods 
to another lake. I will not be gone long.” 

Every few minutes a bluebill or ringneck came up or 
down the run, and passing so close the boys obtained a shot 
at each and all of them. 


192 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Dick had just made an unusually quick, brilliant shot, 
killing a swiftly flying ringneck, when Bruno gave a low 
growl, and they heard a voice say : 

“ That was a fine shot, my boy.” 

The boys turned quickly, and saw a tall man standing up 
on the bank a few feet away. 

Their recent experience made them chary of strangers, 
and they looked at each other, and made no reply. 

But one glance at the stranger showed they had nothing 
to fear, for his face was beaming all over with jolly good- 
humour and kindness. 

The sort of a face that instantly attracts children ; that 
friendless dogs and stray kittens instinctively go to for 
sympathy and help. 

One might swear that the owner of that face was a gentle- 
man, and considerate of the rights of others, whether in the 
parlour or the woods beyond the pale of civilisation. 

If you have no objection, I will sit here a few moments 
and watch you shoot. I will be quiet and not frighten the 
ducks,” continued the newcomer, pleasantly. 

His genial manner was irresistible. The boys’ disagree- 
able experience an hour before with the other stranger was 
forgotten, and Thad replied, in a friendly tone : 

“ Certainly not. You are welcome to sit here, and shoot 
with us if you wish.” 

Oh, no. I don’t wish to interfere with your sport. Go 
ahead and shoot ; I prefer to watch you, anyhow. It is a 
good while since I have seen any one shoot the way this 
little fellow did just now,” he said, smiling in Dick’s 
direction. 

The boys each shot once, and then Thad felt bold enough 
to say : 


TIVO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOODS. 


193 

“You are welcome to come and shoot, sir. We get plenty 
of shooting, as we hunt nearly every day.” 

“ I am almost afraid to shoot in company with such expert 
shots, but I can’t more than miss, and it does seem like old 
times to get out on a duck pass again,” replied the man, 
laughing, as he walked down, and seated himself by the boys. 

He wore a new suit of hunting clothes, and carried the 
handsomest gun Thad or Dick had ever seen. From its 
general resemblance to the one carried by their former 
visitor, they knew it was a breech-loader. 

Of course that gun rivetted their attention, — so much that 
they almost forgot to keep their eyes out for ducks. 

“Whose first shot is it } ” inquired their new friend, in an 
easy, offhand way, as though he had been with them all day. 

“You take the next one,” replied Thad. 

The stranger soon obtained a shot, and crippled a blue- 
bill with the first barrel, and killed it with the second. 

He was much slower in his movements than either Thad 
or Dick, and did not shoot with the dash and brilliancy that 
characterised their method. 

And, it may be added, he did not kill as often or as clean. 
A fact he was quick to acknowledge. 

“ You boys are too much for me. I never saw your equals 
at pass shooting, at your age. I never saw anybody wait so 
long before making a move to shoot. Did you have an 
instructor.!^ ” 

“Yes, sir. Papa taught us,” replied Thad, modestly. 

“Your papa must be a fine shot.” 

“ He is the best shot in the world,” chimed in Dick. 

“ I don’t doubt it,” replied the stranger, laughing at Dick’s 
enthusiasm. “ What is your name } ” 

“ Dick Kingston.” 


194 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


And yours ? ” turning to Thad. 

“ Thad Kingston.” 

‘‘And my name is Howard. I live in the East.” 

At that instant a step was heard, and Thad said : 

“Here comes papa, now.” And Mr. Kingston stepped 
out of the woods. 

His brow clouded when he saw the boys hobnobbing with 
another stranger. Dick noticed it, and cried out : 

“ This man is all right, papa ; you won’t have to lick 
him.” 

Kingston’s face flushed slightly, and a shade of annoyance 
passed over it at Dick’s blunt, outspoken remark. 

This the stranger saw, and his quick wit helped to smooth 
Kingston’s troubled brow. 

Arising, he said, with unaffected frankness, although an 
amused smile lurked in the corner of his eye : 

“ From what these boys have told me, this is Mr. Kingston, 
I believe.” 

“Yes, sir. That is my name,” Kingston replied, looking 
keenly at the tall stranger. 

“ My name is W. O. Howard, of the firm of Brown, 
Howard & Littlejohn, New York City. Here is my busi- 
ness card. I am on the road most of the time, and having 
heard so much of the Mississippi bottoms, and its wild-fowl 
shooting, I took the first opportunity, when out in this 
country, of seeing if reports were true. I brought my gun 
with me, and landed at the little town above here this 
morning, and walked down to see what the bottoms looked 
like. 

“ Happening along here, your boys kindly invited me to 
shoot with them, but now that you have returned I will 
walk on, with many thanks to these boys for their courtesy 


TIVO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOODS. 1 95 

in inviting me to shoot. I am just wandering about aim- 
lessly ; I am such a great crank on wild-fowl shooting, that 
I just can’t keep away from a duck pass, or a bunch of 
decoys.” 

His frank, open countenance told the keen-eyed Kingston 
that here was a man after his own heart, and he hastened to 
say : 

“ I am glad to meet you, Mr. Howard. Don’t leave on my 
account ; be seated. There is room for all of us ; we are not 
shooting for the market. There is my business card,” hand- 
ing the stranger his travelling card. 

The latter glanced at it, and said : “ So you are on the 
road, too.” 

“Yes; but I prefer to live in the country,” replied Mr. 
Kingston. 

“Sensible man. I also live in the country, but I don’t 
have any such hunting-grounds as this near at home. You 
ought to be contented, especially with these two boys for 
hunting companions,” said Mr. Howard, nodding toward 
Thad and Dick. 

“ I am,” replied Mr. Kingston, simply. “ And by the 
way, what have these boys been telling you about me ” he 
added. “That was a very raw remark Dick made, when I 
came.” 

“ The boys have told me nothing, although from what this 
little fellow said I suspect you have had trouble with some 
hunter,” replied Mr. Howard, smiling at the thought of 
Dick’s remark. 

In a few words Kingston told of the trouble with the first 
hunter. 

“ Served him just right,” said Mr. Howard. “ I have no 
patience with such people out in the woods. There are 


196 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


several kinds of them, according to their disposition, and I 
have had experience with nearly all of them. The fellow you 
had the trouble with belongs to the class who think everybody 
in the country is a fool, and consequently beneath them, and 
their legitimate prey. Then there is a kind who make the life of 
their camp mates miserable by their sulkiness or peevishness 
if everything doesn’t go to suit them, or the food isn’t just 
right. The man who shirks, and leaves his camp mates to 
do the work, may also be placed in the category of wood 
cranks. 

‘‘The peculiar part of it is that these same people, when 
in civilisation, are respected citizens and pass for good 
fellows. I used to claim that getting drunk would bring out 
a man’s inner nature better than anything, but I have come 
to think that staying out in the woods for a few days will do 
it more thoroughly. When I am unfortunate enough to get 
caught out in the woods with one of those cranks, I remember 
it, and ever after shun him as I would a leper.” 

“You echo my sentiments exactly. I have known people 
who were the most agreeable and most companionable 
fellows in the world, when in the confines of civilisation, 
but remove them to the woods, and I would as soon herd 
with a bear,” replied Kingston. 

“ If you folks will stop talking about the neighbours a 
minute, and* keep quiet. I’ll kill you another duck,” remarked 
Dick. 

“All right, Dick,” said Mr. Kingston, gently closing his 
left eye at their new friend. 

A single duck came up the run. As it passed, Thad re- 
marked : 

“There is a bufidehead, Dick; just what you have been 
laying for.” 



dick’s ruffle duck 



TtVO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOODS. 


197 


Dick banged away, and the handsome little duck went into 
the water with a splash, where it lay on its back, kicking its 
short legs into the air like a baby. 

Bruno had almost reached it when the white and green 
topknot came right side up, looked around a moment to get 
its bearing, and started away up stream as lively as though 
it had just dropped in for a call, and now had an important 
engagement elsewhere. 

Everybody was astonished, especially Bruno. He gazed 
after the departing fowl with a disgusted look as much as to 
say: 

“That is a nice way to treat a fellow,” and reluctantly 
swam ashore. 

“ What is the matter with your butterball, Dick.? ” inquired 
Mr. Kingston, with a laugh. 

“ That’s where the hitch comes in ; there don’t seem to be 
much of anything the matter with him,” replied the perplexed 
Dick. 

“ Don’t worry about it. You are not the first hunter who 
has been aggravated by the sight of one of those little rascals 
flying away after it was supposed to be dead. 

“ I have had one of them float around on its back for half 
an hour, with its head under water, apparently dead, and then 
seen it suddenly turn right side up and go skimming off, to all 
appearances unhurt. 

“One of the popular names for it is ‘spirit duck,’ and it 
seems very appropriate,” said Mr. Kingston. 

“You were sensible to start the boys out with muzzle- 
loaders. It looks now as though the breech-loader would, in 
a few years, almost entirely supplant the muzzle-loader, and, 
in the years to come, the muzzle-loading days of their youth 
will be a pleasant memory. My old muzzle-loader, at home. 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


198 

is treasured as a priceless relic. I paid four hundred dollars 
for this gun, and it shoots away ahead of the old one, but I 
don’t expect to ever have a tithe of the sport with it I have 
had with the old-timer,” said Mr. Howard. 

That is one view I took of the matter. Then the cost of 
a good breech-loader is so great that I thought it best to wait 
awhile before buying one, and see if they still held to their 
love for shooting, which all boys have when young. If they 
do, I will get them breech-loaders,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

I don’t think you need have any fear on that score. The 
love of hunting was born in them,” said Mr. Howard, laughing. 

“I hope it is,” replied Kingston; ‘‘for I think every boy 
should encourage the love of some outdoor sport, not only 
for the health and pleasure it affords, but also as a pleasant 
way of spending the evening hours of his life, when he retires 
from active pursuits.” 

“You are right,” said Mr. Howard, with an affirmative nod. 
“ I would not exchange the enjoyment I take in shooting, fish- 
ing, and wandering in the woods and by the streams, with the 
birds, for a mountain of gold. It never tires, never wearies 
one, and there is something new and interesting to be learned 
every hour almost.” 

The four hunters shot until about one o’clock, when, at 
Kingston’s invitation, Mr. Howard accompanied them home 
to dinner. Later, they went down among the rice lakes, and 
took in the evening flight of wild fowl. Then Kingston, 
much to Thad and Dick’s delight, prevailed on his guest to 
remain until Monday morning and take the same train he did. 

Mr. Howard left the pleasant home of the Kingstons with 
regret, and Thad and Dick obtained a ready promise to return 
and hunt with them at his earliest convenience. 

Sunday the Kingstons took their visitor for a drive. The 


TWO TYPES OF MEN IN THE WOOES. 1 99 

road wound along the brow of the Mississippi bluffs, and as 
Mr. Howard surveyed the broad winding river, the hundreds 
of rice ponds, and wooded lakes, he exclaimed : 

“ I have a boy about fourteen, named Frank, who is begin- 
ning to evince a love for shooting and fishing, to whom this 
place would be a paradise. He bids fair to be a chip of the 
old block.” 

“ Send him out,” cried Dick, eagerly. 

The older people smiled, and Mr. Kingston said : 

‘‘Yes, let him come by all means. It will do him good.” 

“He cannot shoot much on the wing yet, but he wants to 
learn,” said Mr. Howard. 

“Let him come out next spring,” suggested Thad, “and 
Dick and I will give him some lessons.” 

“ I am afraid he will prove a nuisance, for if there is any- 
thing an old duck hunter doesn’t like, it is to try to shoot 
ducks alongside of a greenhorn,” said Mr. Howard, smiling. 

“He won’t bother us. He can tell us about New York 
City, and we will show him how to kill ducks,” chimed in 
Dick. 

And so it was arranged that Frank Howard should visit 
them the following spring, and Mr. Howard would come also, 
if business permitted' 


CHAPTER XIII. 


OVER DECOYS. 

I T was well along into November before the decoys arrived. 

Thad and Dick haunted the freight office every day for a 
week, only to receive a shake of the head from the local 
agent. But finally their patience was rewarded by the arrival 
of two crates of decoys, containing a. dozen each. 

They took them home, opened the crates, piled the ducks 
in the woodshed, — a dozen mallards and a dozen redheads, — 
and gloated over them until the arrival of their father, on 
Saturday. 

Then the decoys had to be weighted with a strip of lead 
on the bottom, and the strings with weights attached. 

This operation occupied the better part of Saturday, so the 
boys did not get a chance to try them that day. 

The following week Mr. Kingston took a vacation. 

For two weeks, or more, the weather had been beautiful, — 
warm, hazy, and peaceful, with not a breeze to ripple the 
water’s surface, or disturb the crimson and yellow leaves that 
had fluttered from the trees. 

It was the calm that generally precedes the wild autumnal 
death-dance of the elements, that heralds the death of fall, 
and the approach of winter. And when that dance is ended 
there are few wild fowl left in the North. 

The longer the calm continues, the more certain the storm 
is to come, and generally the more severe it is. 


200 


OVEJ? DECOYS. 


201 


Kingston had been raised on the banks of “the Father of 
Waters,” and from long observation knew the storm would 
come soon, and as it always lasted two or three days, and 
meant the last heavy flight of wild fowl, he took a week’s 
vacation, feeling pretty certain of being in at the death. 

Thad and Dick attended school as usual, and Mr. Kingston, 
with his gun and Bruno, wandered through the woods and 
thickets along the bluff, in search of ruffed grouse and quail, 
or threaded the dense woods on the bottoms, looking for a 
belated woodcock. 

Sometimes it was out on the bottoms, following the muddy 
shores of certain lakes in quest of the toothsome jack-snipe, or 
seated on a muskrat house in some favourite rice lake, lying in 
wait for wild fowl. 

Happy days, full of contentment and quiet joy. 

Caring not to make a large bag, he only took the hardest 
and most difficult shots. In fact, to be out in the woods and 
fields with dog and gun, sauced with an occasional shot, was 
enjoyment enough for him. 

Bruno was almost as much company as a man, — more 
than some men ; and after school the boys met him at some 
agreed point, and they paid their respects to the wild fowl 
until the crimson west faded away into a black abyss, and 
the shadowy silhouette of a circling duck was no longer visi- 
ble against the evening sky. 

Speaking of shooting wild fowl late in the evening, here 
is a queer thing that has bothered me for a matter of over 
thirty years that I have been shooting them. 

I was never able to see a single duck by moonlight. 

I have caught shadowy glimpses of flocks many a time, 
and killed some of them. But time and again have I stood 
in a marsh or rice lake, where the mallards came to feed, and 


202 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


by the most brilliant, whitest light that ever streamed from 
a full moon, strained my eyes and striven in vain to catch a 
glimpse of the ducks, circling over and around m.e. 

I mean now after dark, or what would be dark if the moon 
were not shining. Yet I was possessed of very good eyes, — 
neither near nor far sighted. 

Thursday, a gentle, misty rain set in. One of those warm, 
soft rains that seem to apologise for wetting a person. 

That night the wind changed to the northwest, and the 
mercury in the thermometer dropped so rapidly it was in 
danger of dislocating its spinal vertebrae. 

Friday morning, when the Kingstons peeped out of the 
window overlooking the Mississippi, a scene met their eyes 
that always sets the blood bounding and tingling through the 
veins of the wild-fowl shooter, and causes his eye to dance 
and sparkle with the wild joy of the chase, while he mentally 
champs the bit like a war-horse that sniffs the battle from 
afar, dances a jig, and hurries into his clothes. 

The heavens were alive with fleeing wild fowl. 

They were everywhere. Scudding along just above the 
water, high over head, sitting in the channel, drifting with 
the current, while, far as the eye could pierce over the Iowa 
and Illinois hills, the stream of wild fowl poured along, fleeing 
before the gale. 

To a lover of wild-fowl shooting, who has never stood on 
the banks of the Mississippi and observed one of these great 
migratory flights of ducks and geese, during a late autumn 
blizzard, it is a sight worth seeing. 

Ducks especially seem possessed of the wild spirit of “ Pau- 
paukeewis ; ” the soul of the Storm Fool” is in every one 
of their little bodies, and they seem drunk with the mad joy 
of the storm. 


OF£J^ DECOYS. 


203 


At least, they act that way. 

A flock of hundreds will come dashing down the river as 
though they had a through ticket to the gulf, with no stop- 
over privileges. Suddenly a whim seizes them, and they 
circle around over the river two or three times, and drop 
gently into the storm-lashed waves with as much composure 
as though they were settling in a quiet lake of a still fall 
evening. 

To all appearances they will flnish their journey by 
water. 

But no. In five minutes, — perhaps as many seconds, — 
another whim seizes the leaders, and away they go, helter 
skelter down the river, as though possessed of the Evil One. 

Again a flock will dash into a little pond, — one that ducks 
never think of alighting in, when in their right minds, — 
hurl themselves into the water, sit there two minutes and 
look about sharply with their heads in the air. Something 
startles them, a falling leaf, or the chatter, maybe, of a 
squirrel, and they are out of the water and gone in a flash. 

I have seen these feats performed hundreds of times. 

Long lines of stately geese and brant float along at a high 
altitude, attending strictly to business and heading straight 
for the south. 

They are too big and clumsy, and too sedate to waste their 
time darting about aimlessly, like the ducks. They just plod 
along on the main road, while their small cousins, the ducks, 
skirmish in every nook and cranny for fun, or something to 
eat, continually getting themselves into hot water by dash- 
ing headlong into every fleet of decoys they see around some 
point or bay, and, when the mistake is discovered, the heed- 
less fowls are generally short several members of their 
company. 


204 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Do they take warning from their repeated mistakes, and 
reform ? Not they. Like some of their human prototypes, 
they have neither the time nor the brains to rectify mistakes. 

“ Jiminy crickets ! Dick, come here and see the ducks ! ” 
cried Thad, as he stepped to the window. 

Dick had been awake for some time, but he was so deli- 
ciously warm, and cosy, and comfortable under the bedclothes, 
that he contemplated the getting-up process with considerable 
disfavour. 

He was vaguely conscious of the fact that he must get 
out of that warm nest sometime, but, like all boys, he kept 
putting it off, dreading it, for the end of his nose told him 
in unmistakable language, that the atmosphere had changed 
materially since yesterday. 

But at Thad’s magic words, there was a mighty upheaval. 
The bedclothes went one way, and Dick the other. With 
one bound he was out of bed, and at Thad’s side. 

Where } Where ? ” he cried, eagerly. 

“ Everywhere,” replied Thad. 

The rain had ceased, except an occasional squall, but a 
heavy blanket of cold, gray, rough-looking clouds hung over 
the sky, and raced along south with the wild fowl. 

Gee ! Look at them ! I wonder if it is too cold to go 
hunting ! ” cried Dick, between shivers. 

“ I’ll bet it isn’t. Let’s get down-stairs. Papa is watching 
them, you may be sure,” replied Thad, hurriedly dressing. 

Mr. Kingston had been sitting by the window for an hour, 
watching the heavy flight, when the boys came down. 

“ What do you think of that .? Isn’t it good for sore eyes ! ” 
cried Thad, as they bounded into the sitting-room. 

“ Looks old-fashioned, Thad,” replied his father, turning 
from the window. 


OV£J^ DECOYS. 205 

“Will it be too cold and windy to go hunting, papa?” 
inquired Dick, anxiously. 

“ No. This isn’t cold ; it is just nice fall weather,” 
laughed his father. 

“ Good ! Now we’ll try our decoys,” shouted Dick, glee- 
fully, catching Thad by the seat of his pants, and dragging 
him backward around the room. 

“ Oh, you excitable, duck-legged little nuisance. Let up, 
before I stand you on your head,” said Thad, breaking Dick’s 
grip on his trousers. 

“ Do you know what day of the week this is, Dick ? ” said 
Mr. Kingston. 

“It’s — only Friday, Thad,” said Dick, after thinking a 
moment, his jaw dropping as he looked at his brother. 

Then it was a study to watch Dick’s face. He scratched 
his head a minute, and then looked up at his father. 

“ Do you suppose our education would be entirely ruined 
if we didn’t go to school to-day ? Will we grow up to be 
idiots ? ” he asked. 

“ You will, of course, but stopping school won’t affect the 
matter, with such a rattle-brained Joskins as you are,” re- 
marked Thad. 

“ Oh, is that so ? ” replied Dick, scornfully. “ I guess I am 
at the head of every one of my classes, except grammar, and 
that don’t count. It was just invented by some sour old 
maid who hated boys and wanted to bother the soul out of 
them.” 

“I don’t think one day, and especially Friday, will retard 
your education much, Dick, and it is such a splendid day for 
ducks you may both stay out of school,” said Mr. Kingston. 

“ Good ! ” shouted Dick. 

“ Where will we go ? ” inquired Thad. 


206 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ We will take the decoys down to that little bay at the 
foot of the run. It is surrounded on three sides by heavy 
timber that breaks the force of the wind, and opens out into 
the river. We will go on the north point and have the wind 
in our back, as wild fowl always alight against the wind. 
The decoys are heavy to carry, and I will take them down 
to the shore in the boat, and you boys can walk down 
through the timber.” 

After breakfast they all put on extra warm clothing and 
went down to the boat-house, where Thad and Dick helped 
get out the boat and load the decoys. 

Then they started down through the woods, and their 
father rowed down the shore. 

“ Whew ! Isn’t this a snorter } ” laughed Thad, as an 
extra gust of wind took off his hat, filled his eyes with 
dirt, and surrounded them with a whirling eddy of dead 
leaves. 

*‘This is jolly. We can have a chance to try our luck 
again in the wind,” replied Dick. 

They followed the run, and on the way down obtained 
several shots at passing ducks, killing two. 

When they arrived at the bay, Mr. Kingston was across 
on the point, setting out the decoys. It was only a short 
distance from the point to the head of the little bay, and 
when he had finished, he rowed over after the boys. 

While they were returning, a flock wheeled into the de- 
coys, but, seeing the boat, changed their minds. 

Mr. Kingston left the boys on the point and ran the boat 
up a few yards under the willows and parallel with the shore, 
so it would not show enough to frighten the ducks. 

The underbrush was so dense at the point that little more 
blind was needed than nature furnished. A few willows 


OVER DECOYS. 


207 


stuck in here and there, a couple of short logs for a seat, 
and they were ready. 

“ When I came here, the bay was sprinkled with ducks. 
We ought to get good shooting,” said Mr. Kingston, as he 
looked out over the rolling whitecaps of the Mississippi. 

“ Here comes a bunch,” said Thad, in a low voice. 

Half a dozen bluebills whirled in from the river, and 
seeing the decoys, came straight for them. 

Kingston had slowly put the gun to his face, before the 
ducks turned toward him, and as they hovered over the 
decoys, he pressed the trigger. 

One duck fell, and as the rest gathered themselves, he 
killed another. 

The boys fired one shot each at the same instant, and one 
m^re duck dropped. 

“ I killed my first duck over decoys,” said Dick, gleefully, 
as he saw the bird fall. 

“ You must have filled it so full of shot, it sunk ; I don’t 
see it anywhere. I killed that duck,” replied Thad. 

“ Not this morning, you didn’t, my son,” said Dick. 

Sh ! kill that pair of teal, I am not loaded,” said Mr. 
Kingston, as a couple of greenwings darted from the river. 

The boys fired their remaining barrel, and both teal went 
on up the run. 

“You will find this kind of sport is totally different from 
pass shooting, boys. You don’t have a chance to swing the 
gun here ; if they try to alight, catch them just as they 
check their flight and raise the wings to drop in the water. 
Another thing, — never bicker over who kills a duck over 
decoys. When two or more are shooting, no one knows for 
sure who killed it,” said Mr. Kingston. 

A mud-bar ran out from the point, so the decoys were in 


208 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


shallow water. Bruno had barely to swim to retrieve the 
ducks, and the water being almost dead there, the birds did 
not float away quickly. 

But what astonished the boys most was the comparative 
quietude of the little bay. They had fully expected to shoot 
in a wild, boisterous wind, but while the forest bent and 
groaned before the blast, and out on the Mississippi the 
whitecaps rolled ceaselessly, the sheltered bay was a grate- 
ful harbour for the ducks. 

Easy now ; here come four pintails. Thad, you shoot 
first,” said his father, and an instant later the birds were 
teetering up and down over the decoys. 

At the crack of Thad’s gun they sprang into the air, and 
when Dick cut loose at them they were up in the wind. 

“ They are not a very easy mark, Dick,” laughed his 
father, as they watched the four pintails fly off down the 
river. 

<Mt’s like shooting at a rubber ball on the first bounce,” 
remarked Dick. 

*‘.Or the end of a spring-board,” said Thad. 

‘‘ Pintails are a hard bird to hit over decoys ; they dance 
and teeter up and down so much, when about to alight,” 
said Mr. Kingston. 

‘‘Wait a minute, here come a pair.” 

The boys suspended loading operations, and as a pair of 
gadwells hung over the decoys, Kingston’s gun cracked 
twice, and both lay drifting on the water. 

“ Why do you put the gun to your face before the ducks 
get here, papa } I thought you told us not to raise the gun 
until ready to shoot,” said Dick. 

“That was on pass shooting. This is entirely different. 
Here you want to shoot at a duck when it is in the most 


OVEJ? DECOYS. 


209 


favourable position, and the nearer you are ready the quicker 
you can shoot when your judgment tells you the bird is 
where you want it. But if you don’t see it in time to get the 
gun up before it gets too near, don’t try it ; remain motion- 
less until ready to shoot.” 

“ Here comes your meat, Dick,” said Thad, in a low tone, 
as a stately mallard sailed into the bay. 

He saw the decoys, and, as his wings bowed over them, 
the report of Dick’s gun rang out, and he collapsed like a 
wet rag, and went in among the decoys with a splash, a 
victim of misplaced confidence. 

“ Here comes some of your favourite buffleheads ; you and 
Thad shoot,” half whispered Mr. Kingston, as eight or ten of 
these little ducks came toward the decoys. 

The buffleheads dropped into the water, and Dick raised 
his gun. 

Hold on, Dick. Don’t shoot sitting ; let me scare them 
up for you,” said his father. 

Shoo ! Get out of there ! ” he called out. 

The ducks looked at him a moment, and started to swim 
away. 

That swimming racket is too thin ; skip out,” he shouted, 
above the noise of the wind. 

Then the ducks took the hint, and rose out of the water, 
and the boys poured a broadside into them. 

One duck dropped, and to Thad and Dick’s utter astonish- 
ment, every duck in the flock followed suit, and splashed 
back in the water. 

Hully gee ! We smashed every mother’s son of them,” 
cried Dick, jubilantly, turning to his brother. 

When he looked at the water again to feast his eyes on 
the floating buffleheads, not one was in sight. The rippling 


210 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


water sang and danced ; the wind sobbed through the trees, 
and the whitecaps on the Mississippi beat and pounded 
noisily upon the farther shore, while the decoys bobbed about 
solemnly, as though they knew a thing or two, and wouldn’t 
tell what it was. 

“ Dog my cats ! Where did all those ducks go to that we 
killed a minute ago } ” said Dick, scratching his head in 
amazement, as he turned to his father. 

The latter was chuckling softly. 

Didn’t I tell you they were ‘ spirit ducks ’ ” 

Don’t you suppose we killed them } ” inquired Dick. 

For answer, a top-knotted head popped up out of the water 
like a cork, a little farther out than when it disappeared, and 
went whizzing away across the Mississippi. It was followed 
by another and another, until a string of ducks was skim- 
ming the water. 

‘‘You will be short on buffleheads, Dick, if some of them 
don’t stop flying away pretty soon,” remarked Mr. Kingston, 
who was nearly smothering with laughter at watching Dick’s 
look of perplexity and disgust. 

“ Doggone it ; about twice as many have come up dnd 
flown away as went down. I believe they went under water 
and laid eggs, and hatched out a lot more,” remarked Dick, 
as he saw them go. 

“ They are too many for me,” said Thad, as he reloaded. 

“ Can’t a fellow ever kill one of them ^ ” asked Dick. 

“ Oh, yes, they can be killed, of course ; but having a very 
small body, and a very heavy coat of feathers, there isn’t 
much to shoot at,” replied his father. 

“I’ll kill one if it takes a charge of dynamite,” muttered 
Dick. 

“ Ah, here comes something. If they come within gun- 


OVER DECOYS. 


21 I 


shot, give them every barrel you have got,” whispered Mr. 
Kingston, with sparkling eyes, as a flock of white-looking 
ducks sailed in on the farther side of the bay. 

One circle, and the ducks saw the bunch of decoys, and 
made straight for them. 

All three guns roared, and then roared again, as the ducks 
started to leave the hornets’ nest they had plunged into. 

Hurrah ! Five canvasbacks ; I’ll get them with the 
boat. Be quiet, Bruno,” as the latter asked with his eyes if 
he should get them. 

Kingston picked up the ducks, and hurried the boat back 
out of sight. 

“ That was a piece of good luck. We don’t get many 
shots at those fellows, here on the Mississippi,” he remarked, 
as he threw the big, handsome birds down on the pile, with 
a look of supreme satisfaction. 

“ Keep quiet, here come two,” whispered Dick, and a pair 
of birds splashed in among the decoys as though they were 
plumb tired out, and didn’t care a cent what kind of company 
they were in. 

The boys waited for their father, but the latter only 
laughed, and said, contemptuously : “ Don’t get excited, 

boys ; they are only common old mud-hens that have got 
lost out on the Mississippi in the storm.” 

The despised mud-hens looked around a minute or two, 
and, not liking the look^ of things, started to swim away. 

Kingston hurled a club at them, and gathering up their 
weary bodies, they went skimming down the river, trailing 
their black legs through the water as though they had no 
strength to hold them up. 

“ How do you feel, Thad, are you cold } ” inquired Mr. 
Kingston. 


212 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


No, sir ; I am as snug as a bug in a rug,” replied Thad. 

And you, Dick ? ” 

never felt so jolly good but once before in my life; 
and that was when the teacher forgot to lick me,” said Dick. 

Sometimes there was a lull in the shooting ; then again 
the ducks would come so fast they could not keep a load in 
the guns. 

ril take Bruno out in the woods, and give him a run, he 
looks cold,” remarked Mr. Kingston, looking at the shivering 
dog. 

He had just returned, and was still standing behind the 
boys when a bufflehead whipped around the point, and 
dropped in among the decoys. 

^^Here is your chance to get revenge, Dick,” said Thad. 

ril scare him up, and you kill him. Make a sure thing 
of it this time. Ready now.” 

The bufflehead got out of the water, and instead of going 
out over the river, flew past the blind to go up the run. The 
little fellow was not thirty feet away when he passed Dick, 
and the boy could almost see the white of its eye. TForget- 
ting all about his instructions on shooting passing birds, in 
his eagerness to kill that particular duck, Dick banged away 
with both barrels, but the only noticeable effect was to make 
two big splashes in the water behind the bird. 

Dick was frantic. 

Kill him, Thad ! Smash him ! Cut him in two ! ” he 
yelled. 

In a second Thad had sent two charges after the bunch of 
flying feathers, but to no purpose. 

Mr. Kingston laughed, took a step down the bank, and, 
throwing his gun on the bufflehead, pressed the trigger. 

“ There is your ‘ spirit duck ; ’ I don’t think he will fly 


OVE/^ DECOYS, 


213 

away this time, Dick,” he remarked, as the duck struck the 
water. 

And he was right. Bruno brought it to shore, and Dick 
examined it and gloated over it. 

“No wonder we couldn’t kill it. It’s nothing but a bunch 
of feathers,” he remarked. 

“ Bunch of feathers and a gall,” suggested Thad. 

“ If I had only killed you myself,” sighed Dick. 

“ Why did you shoot so quick } ” asked Thad. 

“Why you shoot so quick } ” retorted Dick. 

“Oh, I didn’t care about killing it. I just shot to accom- 
modate you. I was trying to see if I could cut its head off,” 
replied Thad. 

“You have queer ideas about which end of a duck the 
head is on. You came a good deal nearer cutting off its 
tail,” said Dick. 

“ I guess that bufflehead in my dream had a pretty level 
head after all,” said Thad. 

“ That’s what he did ; but this fellow won’t bother any 
more boys,” replied Dick. 

By noon they had a fine pile of ducks. 

“ Oh, look, it is snowing ! ” cried Thad, pointing to the 
white flakes out over the water. 

At that instant the sharp report of his father’s gun rang 
in his ears, and both boys looked up. Nothing was in sight. 

“ What did you shoot at, papa,” inquired Thad. 

A great splash in the water’s edge a few feet from him, 
answered, and Thad saw a big duck lying on its back fanning 
the air with both feet. 

“ Another canvasback,” he announced, as he lifted it out 
of the water. 

“ That isn’t a canvasback, it is a redhead. He was trying 


214 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


to sneak over our heads without our seeing him, but I fooled 
the gentleman,” said Mr. Kingston, as he rapidly reloaded. 

*‘It looks just like a canvasback,” said Thad, stepping into 
the blind. His father picked one of the latter ducks from 
the pile. 

^‘Do you see this canvasback’s bill is black and runs 
almost straight from the top of the head, while the duck 
you have has a blue bill, that is scooped out on top like 
a turned-up nose.? You notice also, that redhead has a much 
more chunky head than this canvasback. Can you tell them 
apart now.?” 

“ Yes, sir, I can see a big difference now,” replied Thad. 

*'See it snow,” said Dick, as he watched the whirling 
flakes driven before the blast. 

For half an hour the snow-storm raged, and ducks galore 
came into the sheltered bay. Our duck hunters improved 
the opportunity and added materially to their bag. 

Hark,” said Mr. Kingston, as the storm eased up a little. 

All listened, and distinctly an ‘‘Ah-unk, Ah-unk,” was 
borne to their ears on the blast. N 

Geese, and to the north of us. Keep quiet,” said Mr. 
Kingston, in a low tone. 

The cries of the geese gradually became clearer, but 
whether they were on the line of flight or not, the hunters 
could only conjecture. 

Do you think we will get a shot at them .? ” whispered 
Dick, eagerly. 

I don’t know. Stand perfectly still ; they sound as 
though they were coming right over us, but they may be 
too high for a shot,” was the whispered reply. 

The cries ceased for a time ; so long, in fact, that the 
hunters standing there with beating hearts began to think 


OV£J^ DECOYS. 215 

the birds had changed their course and gone across the 
river. 

Suddenly five great gray forms loomed up right over their 
heads, not thirty yards high. 

“ Give it to them, boys, every barrel ; I’ll take the leader,” 
cried Mr. Kingston, raising his gun. 

Those five geese must have thought Hades had let out for 
noon, when the six barrels poured their death-dealing pellets 
up through the trees. 

As the six reports boomed out above the roar of the storm, 
the leader and the one directly behind him doubled in the air, 
and, folding their big wings, came down into the water with a 
splash that sounded as though a section of the Iowa bluffs 
had fallen into the river. 

“ Bully ! two old seed geese,” shouted Thad, and he and 
Dick put down their guns and danced a double shuffle, to the 
edification of their father. Then Thad started after the big 
birds, now kicking around in the shallow water. 

Dick was just putting the finishing touches to his jig, and, 
as Thad turned his back, he could not resist the temptation, 
in his exuberance, of launching a kick at his brother’s 
anatomy. A kick that, had it taken effect, would have 
materially helped Thad out to the geese, but, owing to the 
abbreviated condition of Dick’s legs, it fell short. 

I saw you, young fellow, and if your legs had been over 
ten inches long, I would have made you hard to catch,” called 
out Thad over his shoulder. 

“ Gee, they weigh about forty pounds apiece, I should 
judge,” he remarked, as he came wading back through the 
shallow water, towing a goose by the head in either hand. 

“ Not quite that, I guess, but they are big Canadas,” said 
his father. 


2I6 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Thad, stand still a minute,” said Dick. 

The former was in the edge of the water, and halted, 
standing like a statue. 

He could see nothing, but heard his father say, quietly : 

‘‘ Now give it to him.” 

Then he heard the crack of Dick’s gun, and, looking out 
over the bay, saw a small bunch of white and black feathers 
going end over end like an acrobat, finally striking the 
water with a splash. 

‘‘Good shot, Dick, you got one at last,” he heard his 
father say. 

“What did you kill, Dick.?” he asked. 

“Dick finally got his bufflehead,” replied Mr. Kingston, 
while Dick’s face was wreathed in smiles. 

“The lunch is all gone, Dick, are you hungry again.?” he 
inquired, as Bruno was bringing in the duck. 

“ Don’t mention it ; I am always hungry,” replied Dick, his 
mouth watering. } 

“ Count the game, Thad.” 

“Sixty-five ducks, and two geese,” replied Thad, after 
sorting them over. 

“ That isn’t bad ; it looks as though it was going to clear 
off and freeze. Have you had shooting enough, Thad .? It 
is about three o’clock.” 

“ Yes, sir, plenty,” was the reply. 

“ It is no use to talk to Dick, I know he is nearly starved.” 

“ How do you like decoy shooting, Dick .? ” asked Mr. 
Kingston, as they were getting ready to return. 

“It’s my kind of shooting, — gives my legs a chance to 
grow,” replied Dick. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


PRAIRIE - CHICKENS. 

T he cold wave that followed in the wake of the blizzard 
left the ponds and quiet lakes sheeted with an icy 
veneer as a memento of its visit, cutting off the food supply 
of the wild fowl. 

But the wild fowl were not bothering their heads about the 
food supply in that latitude, for they had fled to sunny 
climes, and only a stray flock of belated mallards, and a few 
flsh-ducks, those denizens of the winter air-holes, remained of 
all the countless hosts that a few days before had swept the 
river and bottoms with circling wings. 

Thad and Dick contentedly put away their guns and decoys 
to await the welcome springtime. 

The winter passed, and before they knew it, blustering 
March was at hand, and the river was again singing its old- 
time song of freedom. 

Wild fowl and singing birds again made glad the heart of 
man, and the boys got out the guns and decoys, painted the 
boat, and entered upon the spring campaign with the keen 
zest of youthful hunters. 

They gradually came to place their decoys off the points 
of the islands, or “towheads,” as they are termed, in the 
Mississippi. 

Mr. Kingston took them out in the morning, at daylight, 
two or three times, and showed them what it was to breathe 


217 


2I8 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


the fresh, crisp morning air, and watch the sunrise on the 
Mississippi, while waiting for ducks. 

This was another phase of duck shooting Thad and Dick 
had not thought of, and they fell in love with it at once. 

Of course it was disagreeable at first, getting out of a nice 
warm bed before daylight ; but once up, and outside of a cup 
of hot coffee, the boys took a keen delight in rowing out to 
an island, placing the decoys, and viewing the broad expanse 
of river, in the cool shadows of the breaking morn ; returning 
to an eight or nine o’clock breakfast, that was sauced with 
the ravenous appetite of boyhood, and made still more keen 
by early morning exercise. 

In fact, after one of these morning jaunts, it was simply 
astounding the amount of provender Dick would stow away 
and still feel comfortable. For Dick was a great eater. He 
was always hungry, and always figuring ahead, and helping 
his mother plan what to cook. 

Thad was entirely different. Tall, slim, and tough as a 
knot, he cared little what the bill of fare was, and generally 
finished his meal before Dick had fairly started. 

About this time, Frank Howard arrived from New York. 
He was a tall, white-faced, slim, good-natured fellow, and 
Thad and Dick took ” to him at once. 

He brought a light, handsome breech-loader, any quantity 
of fine new hunting clothes, and a back-load of shells. 

The wealthy New York boy had evidently been sensibly 
reared, as he made no effort to “ show off.” 

Thad and Dick took him out on a pass, and over decoys, 
and it was amusing to watch his enthusiastic, but futile at- 
tempts to kill ducks on the wing. 

The boys were patient and kind, and showed him how he 
shot behind, and tried to teach him their method. 
















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PRAIRIE - CHICKENS. 


219 


He was slower to learn than they had been, but, before he 
left, became proficient enough to kill about one shot in four, 
a fact that pleased him immensely, and he returned home 
with the promise to come every season. 

Spring passed all too quickly, and after the ducks, geese, 
and jack-snipe had departed, Thad and Dick turned their 
attention to fishing. 

It is wonderful how quickly some boys will pick up the art 
of angling. 

At the close of the second summer, after their father had 
bought them proper tackle, and instructed them how to use 
it, they could haildle a small or big mouth black bass almost 
as skilfully as their sire. And they became shrewd, patient, 
tireless anglers. 

If the bass declined to take live minnows, the boys did not 
go home complaining that the fish would not bite. Not they. 
The bass were tempted with a spoon, flies, live frogs, butter- 
flies, worms, crawfish, until something was found to tempt 
their capricious appetites. For a bass will generally bite if 
you have the particular bait he wants. 

And no one knew better the favourite haunts of the bass 
than Thad or Dick. They knew every perpendicular mud- 
bank where the ''redeyes” lay in wait for the youthful and 
unwary crawfish, and no redskin ever crept more silently 
upon his foe than they stole to the top of these banks to 
angle for the small-mouth bass. For that gentleman is 
almost as wary as his far-famed cousin, the trout, and the 
least unusual noise, and good-bye " smallmouth.” One may 
as well go home and fish in the wash-tub. 

They knew every swift rocky point and shore where the 
bass kept the schools of minnows in a fever of unrest, leap- 
ing out of the water to avoid the voracious cannibals. Out 


220 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


on the river nearly every day, they soon knew the fishing 
places better than Mr. Kingston, and when he was at leis- 
ure to go with them he generally left it to their judgment 
where to go. 

It was the close of August, and school would soon 
begin. 

One Saturday morning, Mr. Kingston said : 

“Boys, we haven’t been after prairie-chickens yet. Sup- 
pose we hitch up and drive down on the bottoms and try 
them a whirl. They are nearly full grown now, and deli- 
cious eating.” 

“I’m agreeable, especially the hitching-up scheme. You 
are getting more sensible every day ; my legs haven’t grown 
out yet where I wore them off, hunting ducks, before we got 
the decoys,” said Dick. 

“Just. my size. I want one good hunt before we start to 
school. Say, Dick, if you have good luck with your legs, and 
we keep on shooting over decoys, and your legs keep grow- 
ing right along, they may get to be nearly thirteen inches 
long by the time you are twenty-five,” observed Thad. 

“ My legs don’t bother me, so long as my stomach don’t 
get any smaller.” 

“ No danger of that, it won’t get a chance.” 

“ Do we want rubber boots, papa } ” inquired Dick. 

“ No, of course not. They would scald our feet. Wear 
your shoes, we will hunt on the ridges. There was no high 
water to drown them out this spring, and there should be 
plenty of chickens on the ridges,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

“ What size shot } ” inquired Thad, bringing out his shot- 
belt. 

“ I prefer No. y’s, although I have had good success with 
6’s and 8’s ; we have y’s, and may as well use them.” 


PRAIRIE - CHICKENS. 


221 


When they were ready, a jug of water was placed in a pail 
and packed in ice, a lunch wrapped up (for Dick, Thad said), 
and they climbed into the light spring wagon, helped Bruno 
in, and started down the bluff. 

It was a pleasant day for August. A light breeze, and 
just enough light clouds to mitigate the glare of the sun. 

A low ridge ran for several miles through the middle of 
the bottom, along which ran a road made by farmers in 
gathering the crop of wild bottom hay. When once the 
hunters were fairly on this road, Bruno was cast off, and 
started to range the ridge, while the hunters drove slowly 
along, a short distance behind. 

Bruno had covered perhaps eighty rods, when the sharp- 
eyed Dick exclaimed, “ Bruno has something ! ” 

Sure enough, there he stood about fifty yards ahead, stiff 
as a work-bench. 

“ Now, Dick, you can flesh your maiden sword on young 
grouse. Here is a willow we can tie to, back a few rods, 
then we can all shoot,” said Mr. Kingston, driving back to 
the tree. 

“ Now, boys,” he said, as they were walking up to the dog, 
“remember to take the birds in front of you as nearly as 
possible. And never shoot across a companion’s face at a 
bird, just to show your superior skill and quickness. It is 
very ungentlemanly, and your companion cannot but think, 
although he may be too polite to say anything, that you are 
a selfish pig, and he will probably have a pressing engage- 
ment elsewhere the next time you invite him to hunt with 
you. Of course, that is supposing he is ready to shoot. If 
his gun is unloaded, or he has fired both barrels, and a bird 
flushes, you are at liberty to shoot in any direction. Care- 
ful, now. If there is a large covey, they will probably rise 


222 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


one or two at a time until we commence shooting, then the 
whole covey will go. Easy now, Bruno, rout it out.” 

Bruno took a step forward, and whirr, a grouse got up 
directly in front of Dick. Bang, and still it went. Bang 
again, and the bird wilted, whirr, at Thad’s feet. Bang, 
and the fleeing grouse dropped, cut to ribbons before it 
was fairly on the wing. 

Whirr, and Kingston grassed a bird at twenty-five yards. 
Whirr — whirr — - bang — bang — whirr — whirr — whirr ! 
The guns were empty, and still the tantalising grouse con- 
tinued to rise all around them. 

“ Dear, I wish we had breech-loaders,” said Thad, regret- 
fully, as he watched the plump birds sail away across the 
bottoms, after the guns were empty. 

‘‘Yes, here is the place where a breech-loader comes in 
handy. There were twelve or fifteen birds in that covey,” 
replied his father, as he finished reloading. 

“ Are they all up, Bruno } ” Whirr, a bird arose almost 
behind him, and a little to the left, and sailed away. 

Quick as a flash, Kingston whirled on his hips, without 
moving his feet, and cut down the grouse at forty yards. 

“You are pretty quick on the trigger at chickens, as well 
as ducks,” remarked Thad, capping his gun. 

“ Oh, just tolerable. That is an old trick of theirs, try- 
ing to sneak off behind a fellow. How many did you get, 
Dick .? ” 

“ Only one. I missed with the first barrel.” 

“You shot too quickly. Take your time, and remember 
you are not shooting woodcock in the brush, where the bird 
is out of sight in a second. These are young birds, and easy 
to kill ; your gun is good for them at forty-five or fifty yards. 
What did you do, Thad ^ ” 


PRAIRIE - CHICKENS. 


223 


“ Killed my first, and missed the second one somehow; I 
thought I was on to it, but it forgot to fall,” replied Thad. 

“ I am afraid your first one was pretty badly shot to 
pieces. It was not more than ten yards from you. Try 
to keep cool and have your wits about you, and if a bird is 
too close, wait a moment with the gun in your hands, until it 
is far enough away so you will not spoil it.” 

‘‘ Did you get one with each barrel, papa } ” inquired Dick. 

“Yes, and that fellow that tried to sneak away behind us, 
is three. You and Thad, one each, is five. That isn’t so 
bad for a starter.” 

The birds were gathered, and they walked back to the 
wagon, took a long swig of cool water, and started on. 

A quarter of a mile farther on, Bruno drew to a point on 
the edge of a rice pond. 

“ I wonder if he has chickens by that slough,” said Thad. 

“ Either that, or he is pointing a rail, and there is no tree 
convenient,” replied his father. 

“You and Dick go over, and I will hold the horse. Then 
I can see how Dick holds his nerve,” said Thad. 

So Mr. Kingston and Dick got out of the wagon and 
walked over to where Bruno was standing. 

“ You take the first shot, Dick. Get them out, Bruno.” 

The dog stepped slowly ahead, and a big, brown, awkward- 
flying bird rose up from the tall grass. 

“A king-rail. Paste him, Dick.” And Dick “pasted” 
him thoroughly. 

“You held your nerve all right that trip, Dick,” said 
Thad, as Dick threw the rail in the wagon. 

“Yes, I am proud of myself on cornering one old king- 
rail in the tall grass, where he had to get his legs tangled 
getting out,” replied Dick. 


224 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“Never mind, if you get rattled on the next covey we 
will load you in the wagon and let you hold the horse while 
we shoot,” observed Thad. 

“ We may both have to hold the horse,” remarked Dick, as 
they drove on. 

A short distance farther down the ridge and Bruno slowed 
up gradually, his tail waved suspiciously, and then straight- 
ened out. 

“ Ah, another covey. Now watch the youthful Richard 
make a double,” said Dick, his eye lighting up. 

“ I will bet you two fried chickens for supper, you don’t 
make a double,” said Thad. 

“Take it. Now come on, and I’ll give you an imitation of 
a short-legged boy holding his nerve,” replied Dick, leaping 
out of the wagon. 

“ Where will we hitch the horse ? ” said Thad. 

“You and papa hold him, and I will go over and shoot 
the chickens,” said Dick, pretending to start off. 

“ Hold on. That’s too thin. You probably have a couple 
of dead ones in your pocket, and you will try to work them 
off, for what you kill,” called Thad. 

“ There is a clump of willows off to the right,” said Mr. 
Kingston, pointing to a few willows a hundred yards away. 

“You drive over and hitch, Thad, and if you hurry, maybe 
we will wait here for you,” said Dick. 

In a few minutes Thad returned, and as they approached 
the spot where Bruno was standing calmly as a wooden 
Indian, Mr. Kingston said, in a low tone : 

“Keep cool. Remember it is just like shooting at a 
mark.” 

Whirr — whirr — bang — whirr — bang — bang — whirr — 
whirr — whirr — bang — bang — whirr — whirr — bang, and 


PRAIRIE - CHICKENS. 225 

the guns were empty. Whirr — whirr, and still the grouse 
sprang out of the short grass. 

It’s tough, boys, but they will keep,” remarked Mr. King- 
ston, laughing, as they watched the birds sail away unharmed, 
after the guns were emptied. 

“Yes, some day we will have breech-loaders, and then we 
will make it warm for these gentlemen,” said Thad, who had 
longed for a breech-loading gun since the day they had met 
the two strangers on the run. 

“ How did we make it this time What did you do, Dick ” 
inquired Mr. Kingston. 

“ I won my two fried chickens all right, from our long- 
legged friend here. That makes five chickens I will have 
to eat for supper, as I was intending to eat three,” said 
Dick. 

“ For heaven’s .sake. Is it possible I am going to be the 
cause of your death } ” said Thad. 

“ Pooh. You don’t think five fried chickens would phase 
me, do you.?” asked Dick, scornfully. 

“ No. By the great horn spoons, I believe you could 
eat a sawdust bear and enjoy it,” replied Thad. 

“ Maybe I could. It makes me feel a little hungry to 
think of eating even a sawdust bear. But that has nothing 
to do with the number of chickens you killed just now,” said 
Dick. 

“ Papa and I each killed two, of course.” ^ - 

“ That was pretty good shooting, boys,” said Mr. Kingston, 
as they put the six additional grouse in the wagon and 
climbed in. 

“Yes. If we have good luck and strike a few more big 
covies, we may get enough for Dick’s supper,” remarked 
Thad. 


226 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Aw, smarty. Think you are funny, don’t you ? ” said 
Dick, turning up his nose. 

“ Hold on, boys. We must give Bruno some water,” said 
Mr. Kingston, as they were about to drive on. 

“ What is the matter with eating our lunch, too } ” inquired 
Dick. 

I suppose we might. It is after eleven o’clock, and of 
course Dick is hungry,” replied Mr. Kingston, laughing. 

While they were eating their lunch, Mr. Kingston said : 

Boys, you never had occasion to notice in how small a 
space a young prairie-chicken can hide, and you would hardly 
believe it. For instance, you would hardly believe it possible 
for birds the size of these we are shooting to conceal them- 
selves on that mowed ground over yonder, so effectually that 
a person standing ten or fifteen feet from them, and know- 
ing they were there, could not see the faintest semblance 
of a bird.” 

“ No. Can they do that ? ” asked Dick, in astonish- 
ment. 

“Yes, I have seen them perform that very feat, many a 
time.” 

' “ It doesn’t seem possible. How do they do it The 

stubble is not more than an inch or two high, and these 
chickens are more than two-thirds grown. Seems as though 
they would stick up above the stubble like a mud-turtle 
on a board, no matter how closely they crouched,” said 
Thad. 

“ I don’t know how they do it, but they have a way of flatten- 
ing and spreading their bodies out that is simply wonderful. 
I recall an instance of this kind when I was on the farm years 
ago. Young prairie-chickens have a great habit of climbing 
up on the cocks of wild hay late in the afternoon, when they 



RUFFED GROUSE 







PRAIRIE-CHICKENS, 227 

have filled their crops with grasshoppers. A whole covey 
will perch up there and sun themselves for an hour or two. 
Our farm lay partly on the bottoms, and, after I had come to 
learn their habits, I used to watch for them to do that, as I 
had no dog then, and they were otherwise difficult to find in 
the grass. 

“ One afternoon I looked down on the bottoms, and there, 
only a short distance from the house, were two or three 
cocks of hay covered with young prairie-chickens, and, 
seizing my gun, I started down to interview them. 

“ Another peculiarity these young birds have is that, when 
they discover any one approaching, instead of flying away, 
they steal quietly off of the haycock, walk out in the stubble 
a few yards, and squat down. 

“ The chickens saw me coming and did this very thing ; 
but the grass had been recently cut, and the stubble was so 
short that my only fear was they would not let me get close 
enough for a shot. 

“ Before I got near them, not a bird was in sight. And 
do you know it, boys, I walked right into the centre of that 
covey, and stood there looking over the mowed ground, 
knowing they were all around me, and not a sign of a bird 
could I see. I was simply amazed. It seemed as if the 
earth had swallowed them. 

‘‘I must have stood there ten minutes, peering at the 
stubble, and taking a step cautiously now and then, vainly 
looking for a brown feather, but not a head, wing, or back 
could I detect. The stubble was apparently as devoid of life 
as a desert. It was a curious sensation to know that twelve 
or fifteen pairs of sharp eyes were watching my every move- 
ment, only a few feet from me, and I could see nothing. 

‘‘Finally I almost stepped on one, and it sprang up as 


228 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


though it had come out of the earth. I killed it, but not 
another bird moved. 

I reloaded, and then took another long look, but saw 
nothing. I became vexed with myself, and it would have 
been more satisfaction for me to discover one of the little 
rascals lying on the ground at my feet than to have killed 
the whole covey ordinarily. 

After a bit I nearly stepped on another, and it got up 
under my nose. I killed that one, and then they began 
getting up all around me, but I never succeeded in seeing a 
single one until it got out of the stubble.” 

“ Maybe they possess the power of making themselves 
invisible,” suggested Thad. 

“ Perhaps they do, but I rather suspect it is a way they 
have of flattening out until they are about as thick as a 
postage stamp,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

After lunch Bruno was set to work again, and found three 
more coveys, out of which they killed twelve, and then, as it 
was two o’clock, and the hunters were three miles from 
home, and Dick wailing for dinner, they started back. 

On the way home a dozen young local mallards dropped 
into a tiny rice pond a short distance from the road. 

“ What is the matter with a pair of young mallards t ” cried 
Thad. 

‘‘You and Dick go after them, and I will hold the horse,” 
said Mr. Kingston, reining up. 

He watched the boys steal quietly up to the little pond, 
and presently he saw the mallards spring into the air. Two 
white puffs of smoke shot out from the rushes, and two 
mallards dropped straight as a plumb-line. Two more puffs 
followed, and another mallard fell. 

When the boys came back, Mr. Kingston said : 


PRAIRIE - CHICKENS. 


229 


“ Why didn’t you get the other one ? ” 

“ Oh, we both shot at the same duck. I suspect Dick was 
afraid he would miss his last duck, so he shot at mine to be 
sure of getting another, and have enough for his breakfast,” 
replied Thad, climbing in the wagon. 

When they arrived home the game was drawn and stored 
in the ice-house, and Dick ate fried chicken rolled in corn- 
meal for supper until he saw them in his dreams. 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE CAVE. 


HE following Saturday the boys did not know what to 



do with themselves. Mr. Kingston had some corre- 
spondence that required his attention, and the boys were left 
to their own devices. 

For some reason they did not feel like hunting, so they 
played croquet until Dick became disgusted, — as Thad was 
beating him every game, — and threw down his mallet. 

‘‘ Oh, shucks, that isn’t any fun, let’s do something else. 
What can we do ? I don’t want to hunt. I’m too lazy. I 
feel just like lopping around under a tree. How do 


feel .? ” 


‘‘ Loppy, also. I don’t care about going hunting, either. 
Papa can’t go with us, anyhow. Think of something.” 

‘‘ I’ll tell you what let’s do ! ” cried Dick, suddenly. 

^‘What.?” 

Let’s take a couple of hammers and go along under the 
bluff to those two big hickorys, and eat hickory nuts. They 
are just elegant now before the frost comes.” 
don’t care ; I’d just as soon,” said Thad. 

So they hunted up a hammer and a hatchet and 
started. 

Bruno had been half dozing under a tree, but as the boys 
left the yard, he slowly got up and jogged along after. 

A quarter of a mile brought them to the two big hickorys. 


230 


THE CAVE. 


231 


Standing within a few feet of the bluff. Climbing the trees, 
they knocked down enough nuts for a starter,” as Dick said, 
and then, each finding a stone to crack on, sat down in the 
shade close to the base of the bluff, and began feasting on 
the rich, sweet nuts. Their happy jaws going at full speed 
sounded like a drove of pigs under a plum-tree. 

They talked a little to rest their overworked jaws. During 
one of these resting spells Dick said, at the same time cast- 
ing a furtive glance along the bluff : 

I wonder if there are any rattlesnakes around here.” 

I don’t know ; guess not. I haven’t seen one this year,” 
replied Thad, without looking up, as he was busy extracting 
a big meat. 

‘‘ I hope not. I don’t want to meet any of those gentle- 
men. I wish one of their heads was right there,” and Dick 
mashed an imaginary rattlesnake against the face of the bluff 
with the hammer. 

The hammer sank to the handle in the rock. Dick stared. 

Thad, look here ! ” 

“ What’s the matter ? ” said Thad, munching away on the 
big meat. 

See that hole. I just made it with the hammer.” 

“ That’s funny ; how did you do it ? ” said Thad, stopping 
his jaws, and looking interested. 

“ Dogged if I know. I just said, ‘I wish a rattlesnake’s 
head was there,’ and hit the rock a welt, and the hammer 
went right into the solid stone ; must be rotten. I wonder if 
it’s rotten all the way up. If it is we want to be digging out 
from under it.” And Dick cast an apprehensive look up the 
face of the cliff. 

‘‘Nonsense, it isn’t rotten. Don’t you see, it made a hole 
right through the rock, just like you would knock a knot out 


232 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS, 


of a board. That shows there is a little crevice in there,” 
said Thad. 

Dick struck the cliff another blow, but the hammer re- 
bounded. 

“ There, you see, there isn’t any more holes. After this, 
please don’t call my attention away from these nuts, for such 
a simple thing as that,” and Thad resumed his seat and 
cracked another hickory nut. 

The face of the rocks was almost covered with creeping 
vines where they sat, and Dick pulled some of these aside, 
and thumped the cliff here and there. Pretty soon the ham- 
mer made another hole. 

Here is another crevice. I tell you, there is something 
wrong with this bluff,” exclaimed Dick. 

Thad looked up. 

“ That is queer,” he mused. Then he looked at the rock 
again. “ Let’s clear away the vines so we can get a better 
view of it.” 

The vines were cleared away, and Thad examined the face 
of the bluff, carefully. 

Suddenly, he exclaimed : 

“ Look here, Dick ! Where the hammer went in, it is just 
a little different colour. See, here is a spot like it ; and over 
here is another. Strike here.” 

Dick did so, and again the hammer went into the bluff. 

Thad stepped back and looked up and down, and along the 
bluff. 

Then he looked back at the little spot in front of them 
where the hammer had made several holes. 

“ It’s the funniest thing I ever saw. What do you think 
the reason is for the hammer making a hole when you strike 
where that light-coloured rock is } ” 


THE CAVE. 


233 


“ ril give it up. It seems as if the bluff was full of crev- 
ices,” Dick replied. 

Thad pushed away more vines, and looked over the rock 
once more. 

All at once an idea flashed through his head, and he slapped 
his leg, and cried out : 

‘‘Dick, ril bet I have solved the mystery.” 

“ What is it t ” said Dick, eagerly. 

“ There is a cave in the bluff, and it has been sealed up. 
It is just like seeing a figure in a picture puzzle; after you 
see it, you can’t see anything else. Do you see here } The 
two colours only go up a little way, about four feet, and along 
the bluff about three feet. The rest of the rock is all one 
colour.” 

“ I see it now,” cried Dick, fairly dancing with excitement. 

“ See this light streak all around this stone. The light 
streak is the kind the hammer went into. Break a hole 
around this stone,” said Thad. 

Dick thumped away vigorously, breaking the rock every 
blow. 

He made a black, uneven hole around the stone all but an 
inch or so, and then Thad inserted his fingers on two sides of 
the hole, and lifted out a stone the size of his head. 

A flood of sunlight entered the larger opening. 

‘‘Now do you see the cave.? Didn’t I tell you!” cried 
Thad, triumphantly pointing to the gloomy-looking hole. 

“ It’s a cave, sure enough. I wonder what is in there,” 
said Dick, with a look of mingled joy and awe. 

“ We will find out mighty soon,” replied Thad, picking up 
his hammer. 

“ Gee I suppose there is a lot of gold and diamonds in 
there,” said Dick, with glistening eyes. 


234 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


*‘Then we will find it,” replied Thad, pounding vigorously 
away at the cliff. 

The boys worked with a will, and soon loosened two more 
stones nearly as large as the first. 

They now had an opening as large as a man’s body, and 
the day being warm they stopped a moment to breathe. 

Hokey, but that’s hard work ! ” said Thad, pulling out his 
handkerchief. 

“ Hully gee ! I should say it was. It’s worse than hoeing 
potatoes,” replied Dick, the beads of moisture standing out 
all over his chubby face. 

‘‘Yes, it’s harder, but a little more exciting.” 

“ Slightly ; hoeing potatoes isn’t a very exciting pastime, 
unless a bee gets up a fellow’s trouser leg, like it did mine 
a while ago.” 

“That’s so, a bee does help a whole lot,” said Thad, grin- 
ning at thought of Dick’s experience. 

Thad was standing directly in front of the opening, wiping 
the perspiration from his brow, when without the least warn- 
ing a huge wildcat sprang out of the cave straight at him. 

Instinctively, he threw up his arm to protect his face and 
throat, and the animal caught his coat sleeve in its mouth. 

Thad staggered, and at that instant another animal 
bounded through the air and seized the cat by the back of 
the neck in its powerful jaws. It was Bruno. 

Dick was so thunderstruck at seeing an animal spring out 
of the rocks, that for an instant he stood motionless. But 
when he saw Bruno leap to Thad’s assistance, his wits came 
back, and, seizing a club that lay near, ran to help beat the 
animal off. 

But his help was not needed. The gtip of Bruno’s strong 
jaws, with the quick shake he gave, had broken the cat’s 


THE CAVE. 


235 


neck, and torn it loose from Thad, and it lay on the ground 
gasping its life away, with the dog still chewing at its neck. 

‘‘ This is a nice go. How did that wildcat ever get in 
there } ” said Thad, ruefully surveying his torn clothes. 

There must be another opening,” said Dick. 

'' If there is, the cat couldn’t get out of it ; don’t you see 
it is nothing but skin and bones ? It was so weak it could 
hardly jump out of the hole; it must have been nearly 
starved,” said Thad. 

Did it bite through your coat ? ” asked Dick. 

‘‘No; just tore my clothes,” replied Thad. “Let go of 
it, Bruno ; it is dead.” Bruno let go of the cat, but stood 
with bristling back, looking as if he would like to chew it a 
little more, to make sure. 

“ Do you suppose there are any more wildcats in the 
cave ? ” asked Dick. 

“I don’t think so. I believe that critter got in there 
accidentally, somehow, and was starving to death. That is 
the reason he jumped at me ; they don’t ever bother folks 
unless they are starving. Bruno could lick a ten-acre field 
full of such poor skinny cats as this one.” 

“ Hadn’t we better go home and get papa to come and 
help open the cave ^ I’m afraid there are more wildcats in 
there,” said Dick, casting an apprehensive glance into the 
black opening. 

“ No ; let’s open it ourselves. I’ll tell you how I think 
that cat got in there,” said Thad, looking up the face of the 
cliff. 

“ How ” 

“ I think there is a fissure somewhere in the rock, running 
up to the top of the bluff, and that cat has a den up there ; 
there’s a half a dozen things that might happen to make it slip 


236 THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 

down in the cave. The rock is as smooth as a house along 
here for fifty yards, not a sign of a hole ; but maybe we can 
find out when we get in the cave. Come on ; Tm going to 
have a peep into this cave, if I have the clothes all torn off 
of me.” And Thad picked up his hatchet and went to work 
again. 

Dick, reluctantly and somewhat gingerly, went to work, 
peeping fearfully into the hole every few moments ; but 
nothing more disturbed them, and gradually his courage and 
eagerness to explore the cave returned. 

In an hour they had opened the cave to what Thad 
thought was the original size, and their hammers made no 
impression on the rock. 

‘‘That’s the size of it,” said Thad, ceasing his work, and 
peering into the cave. 

By the sunlight that streamed in, they could see an irregu* 
larly shaped room that looked to be larger than the sitting- 
room at home, but the mouth being nearer to the south side, 
they could not see the north and northwestern parts with 
much distinctness. 

“ Let’s go home and bring papa. We don’t know what 
may be in there,” whispered Dick, in an awestruck voice. 

“ I don’t believe there is anything more in there,” replied 
Thad. 

“ I don’t like to go in,” objected Dick. 

But Thad stepped boldly through the opening into the 
cave, holding his hatchet ready for business. 

Gradually his eyes became accustomed to the dim light. 

“ Do you see anything } ” asked Dick. 

“ Not a thing.” 

This reply encouraged Dick, and he stepped cautiously 
in. 



“ AFTER LOOKING AROUND CAREFULLY, THEY TOOK A FEW STEPS 

HACK INTO THE CAVE.” 


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THE CAVE. 237 

After looking around carefully, they took a few steps back 
into the cave. 

Just then Dick glanced ahead on the floor of the cave, and 
he clutched Thad’s arm and whispered : 

“ Look there.” 

Thad looked in the direction indicated, and there on the 
ground lay the grinning skeleton of a human being. 

For Lord’s sake, let’s get out of here. It may be a 
robber’s den, for all we know,” whispered Dick, his teeth 
chattering as he hurriedly backed out of the uncanny place. 

The unexpected sight of a skeleton and the contagion of 
Dick’s example caused Thad’s nerve to weaken for an in- 
stant, and he followed Dick out of the cave. 

Dick was half-way down to the road, and going with 
tremendous strides. Thad afterward told his father that 
Dick’s hat was swinging about on top of a few long hairs 
that stuck above his head like a fish-pole. 

The sunshine restored Thad to his normal condition, and 
he called out : 

Hold on ! Where are you going } ” 

‘‘Going home, of course,” replied Dick, halting and turn- 
ing around. 

“Don’t be in such a hurry. Skeletons don’t hurt any- 
body ; come on back, and let’s sit down and talk things over.” 

Thad’s cool manner restored some of Dick’s confidence, 
and he reluctantly and slowly walked back up the slope. 

“ I don’t want to go into that doggoned place any more. 
Why don’t you want papa here } ” 

“Because it is more fun to explore it ourselves. I ain’t 
afraid to go in again,” replied Thad. 

“I believe it’s a robber’s cave,” said Dick, dropping on 
the ground beside Thad. 


238 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


‘‘It may have been, once ; but you can see it has been 
sealed up a long time. I’ll tell you what I think.” 

“What.?” 

“ I think that some time a man has been sealed up in there 
and starved to death ; but it was a long time ago.” 

Dick’s eyes bulged at the thought of such a tragedy. 

“ Honest, do you .? ” 

“That’s what I think. It was sealed up by somebody^ 
that’s sure. Those stones didn’t climb up there of their 
own accord.” 

“ There is something mighty queer about it,” said Dick, 
scratching his head. 

“ I am going in and look around again. You and Bruno 
can stay at the mouth and watch. I want to solve the mystery 
of this thing if I can,” said Thad, picking up the hatchet, 
and starting in the cave. 

“ Have your hatchet all ready,” warned Dick. 

Thad looked about sharply, as soon as his eyes became 
accustomed to the dim light, and, seeing nothing, walked up 
to the skeleton. 

It was lying at full length, as though a person had been 
straightened for the grave, but, either from lack of time or 
inclination, had not been buried. Thad examined it care- 
fully. The only mark of an injury to the bones was a small, 
round hole above the left eye. 

“ See anything more .? ” called Dick. 

“ No. Only there is a bullet hole in the skull, that knocks 
the starved-to-death theory.” 

“ Is that so .? Then he was murdered,” said Dick, ex- 
citedly. 

“ Looks like it,” was the reply. 

Thad walked to the farther part of the cave. In the 


THE CAVE. 239 

northwest corner he could see a rift a foot wide in the rocks, 
running back in the bluff, and up toward the top. 

“ Here is where the wildcat got in, Dick.” 

Dick’s curiosity overcame his fear, and he tiptoed into the 
cave. 

“Where.?" 

Thad pointed to the rift. 

“ That probably runs clear to the top, where its den is." 

They looked around the room, but could see nothing, and 
then went back to the skeleton. 

“ How long do you suppose it has been here .? ” inquired 
Dick. 

“ Maybe a hundred years, for all we know." 

“Chop around in the ground, there may be something 
buried," suggested Dick. 

“ Shucks ! what would be the use of burying anything 
here ; it would be just as safe on top of the ground, with the 
mouth of the cave walled up," replied Thad, burying the 
blade of the hatchet in the damp soil. 

After chopping around aimlessly awhile, he said : 

“If anything is buried, it is deep." 

“ Chop around the head,” suggested Dick. 

Thad did so, and soon his hatchet struck something hard. 

Scooping away the loose earth, he said, presently, in an 
excited voice : 

“ By George, Dick, I believe here is the corner of a 
box ! " 

“ Gee whiz ! ” And Dick was on his knees in a trice, his 
hands throwing out dirt like a badger. 

Soon the outlines of a box came in view, and then a cave 
full of skeletons and wildcats could hardly have driven them 
away. 


240 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Thad soon lifted out an oblong box encrusted with rust 
and dirt. 

‘‘Hully gee! that’s a find, isn’t it I’ll bet it’s full of 
money, or something,” whispered Dick, shrilly. 

The box was so heavy it made Thad grunt to carry it to 
the mouth of the cave, and he could hear something rattling 
around inside. 

After scraping off some of the rust and dirt, they saw it 
was an iron box fastened with a small padlock. 

‘‘Break it open with the hatchet,” said Dick, eagerly. 

Thad raised the hatchet and then paused. “We may 
break the box all to pieces that way, getting it open. I’ll 
tell you a better plan ; I’ll stay here and watch it, and you 
go home and get the horse and wagon, and come back, and 
we will take all this stuff home and let papa open the box. 
We will give him a surprise.” 

“That’s the ticket,” cried Dick, springing up. 

“Now mind, don’t you say anything to papa, or let him 
come.” 

“ All right, I’ll fix that,” said Dick, starting off at a two- 
forty gait. In half an hour, Thad heard the wagon, and 
Dick soon hove in sight, perched on the seat alone. 

“ What did papa say } ” queried Thad, as he walked down 
to the road. 

“ I didn’t see him. Mamma came to the door and asked 
what I was going to do, and where you were. I don’t 
just remember what I did say,” replied Dick, jumping out 
and tying “ Uncle John” to a convenient tree. 

Half an hour later the boys drove into the yard and un- 
hitched. 

Their mother came to the door and said : 

“ Dinner is ready, boys.” 


THE CAVE. 


24 


*‘Tell papa to come out,” replied Thad. 

Mrs. Kingston stepped to the sitting-room door and said : 

“ The boys want you to come out in the yard. They are 
excited over something.” 

What is it, boys ” said Mr. Kingston, walking up to 
where Thad and Dick were standing by the wagon. 

Then he caught sight of Thad’s torn apparel. “ For good- 
ness sake, where have you been to tear your clothes that 
way ? You look as though somebody had thrown you into a 
blackberry patch with a pitchfork.” 

^<We have a few specimens here, and I got my clothes 
torn getting them,” replied Thad. 

Great Scott ! I should say you did have some specimens. 
A skeleton, a box, and a wildcat. You must have found a 
robber’s cave ! ” said Mr. Kingston, in astonishment. 

‘‘We found a cave all right, and got these things out of 
it,” replied Thad, triumphantly. 

“Well, well, who would have thought of such a thing. 
Have you opened the box yet ” 

“No, sir ; and Dick is nearly crazy to see into it. He 
thinks it is full of diamonds or something ; and it ts awful 
heavy.” 

“Bring me the cold chisel,” said Mr. Kingston, lifting 
the box out of the wagon. 

The chisel was brought, and in two minutes the box was 
open. 

Mr. Kingston lifted the lid, and the boys crowded forward 
and peered into it. 

There before their eyes lay a great pile of yellow gold. 

“ It’s money ! It’s money ! Mamma, we are rich ! We 
are rich ! ” shouted Dick, dashing for the house and nearly 
upsetting his mother, who was coming out. 


242 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


What is the matter, Dick ? Have you gone crazy ?” 

“ No, we have found a lot of money ; come and see it ! ” 
cried Dick, dashing back to the wagon. 

“ It is money and lots of it,” said Mr. Kingston, running 
his fingers through the pile of coins. 

“Not a scrap of anything to tell where it came from, or 
whom it belonged to. It looks as if there had been some papers 
here once, but they are rotted and gone now. Ah ! Here 
is a ring,” said Mr. Kingston, picking up a heavy gold ring. 

On the inside of the ring was the inscription : 

“L. A. 1822.” 

“ That was a long time ago, but, of course, there is no way 
of telling how long after this ring was engraved that the man 
died in the cave. But come,” he added, “don’t let us keep 
mamma waiting dinner. I will carry the box in the house, 
and after dinner we will count the money. Perhaps we will 
find something else in the cave that will throw light on the 
subject.” 

At dinner Thad gave a full account of their adventure. 

“ So you were pretty badly scared when you saw the 
skeleton } ” said Mr. Kingston to Dick, with an amused 
smile. 

“ I guess so ; at least, I was agitated. I would have been 
home roosting under the bed in five minutes more, if Thad 
hadn’t called me back. My hair won’t lay down good yet,” 
replied Dick. 

“ Wasn’t Thad scared also ” asked Mr. Kingston. 

“ Naw. He don’t know enough to get scared.” 

“ Lots of bigger folks than you would have crawled under 
the bed, or wanted to, if they had run afoul of a skeleton in 
a dark hole. But come into the sitting-room and we will 
count your money, and see how wealthy you and Thad are.” 


THE CA VE. 243 

Is it all Thad’s and mine ? ” asked Dick, as his father led 
the way into the sitting-room. 

“ Of course ; every penny of it. You found it, didn’t 
you } ” 

‘‘ Yes, but we belong to you, don’t we ” 

Certainly, but it is worth something to make your hair 
lie down again.” 

It took some time to count the money, — all gold, — but 
finally Mr. Kingston picked out the last coin. 

‘‘ That is all. Here is some mold that was probably papers 
at one time, and here is a little scrap of something that looks 
as though it might have been a piece of canvas. Probably 
the gold was originally in canvas bags.” 

How much money is there } ” asked Thad. 

“ Fifteen thousand, five hundred and twenty dollars.” 

Gee crickets ! ” said Dick. 

Jupiter Jackson! And you say it is all Dick’s and 
mine ? ” ejaculated Thad. 

Yes, all of it.” 

Thad studied a moment. 

‘‘Is our home all paid for ” 

“ All but about two hundred dollars,” replied Mr. Kings- 
ton, promptly. 

“Count out two hundred dollars,” said Thad. 

“But, Thad, I cannot permit that. This money belongs 
to — ” 

“ Count it out instantly,” said Thad, with a mock sternness 
that sounded almost real. 

Mr. Kingston counted out the money and placed it in a 
separate pile. 

“Now count out a thousand dollars, and put that in 
another pile.” 


244 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


What is that for ? ” 

‘‘Never mind what it is for. Do as I tell you,” replied 
Thad, with the air of a commanding officer. 

This was done. 

“ The two hundred dollars is to finish paying for our home. 
That thousand dollars is for you and mamma. It is to partly 
pay for the trouble and worry of raising Dick and I so far. 
Don’t say a word,” he warned, as his father started to raise a 
protest. “ I don’t recollect how much trouble I made you, but 
I am older than Dick, and I can remember many a night when 
you and mamma were up with him when he was sick, and 
you thought I was asleep. A thousand dollars won’t more 
than pay for it.” 

Mr. Kingston’s eyes moistened, and Thad’s mother 
walked over to him, and, kissing him silently, vanished in the 
dining-room. 

“ Now count out three hundred and twenty dollars,” con- 
tinued Thad, trying to look unconcerned. 

The money was counted out. 

“That three hundred and twenty dollars,” said Thad, “is 
for you and mamma and Dick and I to spend foolishly, if we 
want to. To buy breech-loaders, and silk dresses, and such 
things.” 

“ Bully, we will have breech-loaders now ! ” cried Dick, 
gleefully. 

“That leaves seven thousand dollars apiece for Dick and 
me. We will commission you to put it out at interest for us 
until we get ready to go to college. Does that suit you, 
Dick .? ” 

“Yes, siree! To a dot,” declared Dick, promptly. 

“ Well, now the money is all divided, we had better hitch 
up and take it to the bank before somebody steals it.” 


THE CAVE. 


245 

laughed Mr. Kingston, » then we will go down to the cave 
again and explore it more thoroughly.” 

“ By the way, papa, there is a bullet hole in the skull of 
this skeleton. I forgot to mention it before,” said Thad, as 
they went out in the yard to unload the ‘‘specimens,” and 
take the gold to the bank. 

“Sure enough, there is. In all probability there was a 
tragedy connected with the sealing up of that cave. I would 
give much to know the true history of it, but unless we dis- 
cover something in the cave to throw light on the subject, I 
don’t suppose we will ever know anything about it.” 

The money was deposited in the bank at T , and they 

drove back to the cave, armed with lanterns, matches, pick, 
shovel, guns, etc. 

“We have a pick, shovel, and hatchet, and you have your 
gun. I rather think the wildcats want to be looking out for 
tis. However, if you are afraid, you can go back and wait,” 
said Thad. 

“I’m not afraid if any wildcats show up ; they are our 
meat,” replied Dick, laughing. 

“ Come on, then.” 

The southwestern part of the cave, near the fissure to 
which Thad had called Dick’s attention as being the place 
where the wildcat got in, curved like the crescent of a moon. 

Mr. Kingston scrutinised the wall carefully, as he walked 
along with the lantern, to see if there was an opening out of 
it. 

He was a few feet in advance, and as he turned the curve 
stopped suddenly. “Ah, boys, look here! You didn’t find 
everything.” 

“ What is it ? ” cried Thad and Dick, in a breath, pressing 
forward. 


246 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


Mr. Kingston held up the lantern and pointed to a fissure 
or passageway three or four feet in width that extended 
back into the bluff in a southwesterly direction. 

<‘I should say we didn’t. The light was dim here, and 
I took this for a solid wall,” said Thad. 

'‘Maybe here is where the wildcat came from,” said Dick, 
peering into the passageway. 

“ Maybe it is. Let’s go back in a ways and see if we can 
find his den,” said Kingston, coolly. 

" Gee ! see the bats. Scat ! there is one bigger’n a pump- 
kin,” said Dick, as a bat hit him in the ear. 

" ' Bats, bats he found on every side,’ ” quoth Thad, laugh- 
ing to see Dick dodge. 

Guided by the rays of the lantern, they followed the 
passageway. Its course was more or less zigzag and uneven, 
but the main direction was always west. The opening, 
about fifty feet farther in the bluff, widened to six or eight 
feet, so the explorers could walk abreast without crowding, 
and also give Dick plenty of elbow-room to use the gun, and 
be ready for anything from a mouse to a grizzly. 

"I am awful glad we didn’t find this gloomy old tunnel 
until you came,” remarked Dick, peering around on the 
rocky walls, as they walked slowly along. 

"Why not.?” inquired his father, looking down at him 
with a grin. 

" Oh, because that simpleton of a Thad would have insisted 
on exploring it, and of course I would have gone along to 
protect him, and had four kinds of shivers chasing up my 
spine, expecting to have a wildcat jump straddle of my 
neck,” replied Dick. 

"Yes. You would have been a beautiful gooseberry-bush 
to take along for protection, wouldn’t you.? From the way 


THE CAVE. 


247 


you ran when you saw those old bones, I couldn’t have 
drawn you in here with a windlass. If we had found this 
dark hole, in addition to the skeleton and wildcat, it would 
have made Bruno’s legs ache to catch you before you got 
home and under the bed,” remarked Thad, in a sarcastic 
tone. 

“ I was a little rattled when I saw that skeleton,” confessed 
Dick ; ** but you must remember that skeletons are out of 
my line. I am no medical student, nor a grave-digger.” 

“ No ; but you are a first-class foot-racer, especially down- 
hill,” quoth Thad, with a grin. 

“The whole bluff may be honeycombed with caves for 
aught we know,” remarked Mr. Kingston, pointing to numer- 
ous crevices and passages on either side of them, that 
extended into the rocks at right angles with the one they 
were traversing. Some of these were but a few inches in 
width, but extended upward beyond the feeble power of 
the lantern. Others were of sufficient diameter to admit a 
person. 

“ I don’t think I want to be the first person to explore 
those places,” remarked Dick, pointing to a passageway a 
couple of feet wide running off to the right. 

“ Why not } ” asked Thad. 

“Because if a person met anything, there wouldn’t be 
room to pass,” replied Dick. 

There seemed to be’ no end to the passageway. It was 
as if some huge, ill-shapen turtle had crawled and bored its 
way through the rock, while yet in a plastic state, and the 
latter, in the process of cooling and hardening, had split in 
all directions. 

Dick kept his eye out, and gun ready, but there was no 
occasion to use it. Everything was quiet and solemn, as 


248 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


though they were traversing an old forgotten cemetery. The 
only sign of life was the noiseless, flitting bats. 

It seemed to Dick’s excited imagination that they had 
gone miles, and still the passage opened up before them. 
From behind every jagged rock he half expected to have an 
Indian spring out with a war-whoop, or a bear rise up on its 
haunches. “We must be half-way across the state,” he 
finally remarked. 

“ Oh, no. We have only come a few hundred feet,” re- 
plied his father. 

“ There don’t seem to be anything but bats,” said Thad. 

“ It looks as though you boys had killed the only surviv- 
ing inhabitant, except the bats,” replied his father. 

Suddenly the passage they were following widened into 
a cavern, which, on examination, the explorers found to con- 
tain as much floor space as an ordinary country dwelling. 

“ I guess we have reached the end of our journey, boys,” 
remarked Mr. Kingston, as they looked around. 

“ Probably here is where the gentleman resided, whose 
bones we discovered in the outer cave,” observed Thad. 

“ It would look that way, but, if so, we ought to find some 
evidences of the fact,” replied his father. 

“Maybe it is a wildcattery,” hazarded Dick, who could 
not get the idea of finding more wildcats out of his head. 

“A what } ” asked Thad, in astonishment. 

“A wildcattery. Same as a hennery, you know,” repeated 
Dick, innocently. 

“ Oh, I see. Wildcattery is good.” 

“ What is this, I wonder ? ” said Mr. Kingston, as his 
progress was stopped by a stone slab two feet from the 
ground. 

“And what is this.?” asked Thad, picking up something 


THE CAVE. 


249 


from the stone slab. On examination it was found to be 
a stone drinking-mug. Further examination revealed a nar- 
row table but little wider than an ordinary store counter. 
It had been made by placing three flat, rough slabs of stone 
end to, making a table' several feet in length. 

Scattered about on this table, our explorers counted seven 
stone mugs, exactly alike. 

“ This looks as though we had found the place where the 
gentleman used to live,” remarked Thad, jerking his head in 
the direction they had come. 

“ It also looks as though he had company,” replied Mr. 
Kingston. 

Just then Dick stumbled over something, and cried out : 

“ What’s this ? ” 

His father held the lantern, and Dick’s hat rose a couple 
of inches as he saw in the dim light another skeleton. 

It looks as though we had run afoul of an old forgotten 
cemetery,” remarked Thad. 

Kingston raised the lantern and peered about them. 

A few feet distant lay still another grinning skull. 

‘‘ I don’t know how you fellows like it, but I don’t think 
this is a very cheerful place,” said Dick, in an awestruck 
voice, unconsciously gripping the gun a little tighter. 

“ Don’t be afraid, Dick. These people have been dead 
many years,” said his father, reassuringly. 

‘‘ It ought to be cheerful in here ; there is certainly com- 
pany enough,” remarked Thad, pointing to the myriads of 
bats fluttering around from being disturbed by the light. 
“However,” he continued, “if you are afraid, you can take 
the back trail, and papa and I will go on exploring.” 

“ Oh, I am enraptured with the scenery here,” replied 
Dick, sarcastically, “only I can’t say that I particularly enjoy 


250 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


the society of bats. But of course it’s all the way a fellow 
is built. I suppose you have about brains enough to enjoy 
the companionship of bats.” 

I like ’em all right, if they don’t get too familiar,” said 
Thad, scraping a big one off the back of his neck. 

Further investigation revealed three more skeletons, mak- 
ing five in that cave, and a close inspection showed a small 
round hole in the skulls of two of them. 

It was a gruesome find. Five human skeletons, in a 
gloomy cavern far in the bowels of the earth, and two 
of them bearing the marks of bullet wounds ; and Dick, 
although he felt safe in the company of his cool, brave, re- 
sourceful father, breathed a sigh of relief when they had 
made the circuit of the damp, clammy place, and knew there 
were no more skeletons. 

Looks as though there had been a big fight in here, 
sometime in the past, doesn’t it } ” said Thad, as they came 
to the stone table once more. 

^^Yes; it is almost a self-evident fact that these people 
were either killed by outsiders, or in an affray among them- 
selves,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

“ Five skeletons here, and one in the outer cave makes six. 
Here are seven mugs. What do you figure from that ? ” 
said Thad. 

It looks as though seven men made their headquarters 
here, and six of them were killed,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

“ I figure that they all got drunk and got into a fight, and 
the soberest one got away,” said Dick. 

‘‘All right, Dick. We will accept your explanation until 
we find a better,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

A few moments later, the explorers found six rifle barrels, 
thickly encrusted with rust, lying on the ground along the 


THE CAVE. 


251 


north wall, but a few feet from the table. The weapons had 
evidently been left standing against the wall, and, in the long 
years they had stood there unmolested, the stocks had rotted 
away and let the barrels fall to the ground. 

“ Here is something that goes to prove that these former 
inhabitants were not killed by an outside foe,” remarked 
Kingston, picking up one of the rusted barrels. 

“ How is that } ” inquired Thad. 

If they had been fighting some outside enemy, these 
rifles would not have been stacked up here.” 

“Good guess! You will find, if that seventh man ever 
shows up, that my theory hits the nail on the head,” re- 
marked Dick. 

A short distance from the rifle barrels, the boys found 
traces of a fireplace. Beyond this, except a few rotten 
pieces of wood, their search was fruitless. Nothing more 
was found that would tend to throw light on the mystery of 
the former tenants. 

“This is certainly the most interesting and perplexing 
mystery that I ever stumbled upon. I wonder if there is 
another entrance to this place } ” said Mr. Kingston, as he 
walked to the west side of the cavern. 

“Yes; here is our passageway, continuing on west.” 

“ First thing we know, we won’t be able to find our way 
out of this hole, and then somebody will discover some more 
skeletons, some day,” remarked Dick, as his father started 
out of the cave on the west side. 

“Don’t be alarmed, Dick. We will get out all right.” 

“ Oh, I am not worrying about that. All that’s bothering 
me is, that if our skeletons are found here, folks will naturally 
think we belong to the original gang, and that would hurt my 
feelings. As to getting lost here, nothing would tickle me 


252 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


like starving to death in a nice, cheerful place like this,” 
observed Dick, facetiously, as he followed his father out of 
the cave. 

They had not gone more than two hundred feet, when 
Thad cried out, I see daylight ahead ! ” 

Sure enough, a short distance ahead, a faint gleam of light 
could be seen, that came through a narrow opening hardly 
two inches wide. 

There the passage came to an end, and their way was 
barred by a mass of earth and rocks. 

It required a vigorous use of the pick, shovel, and hatchet 
to make an opening large enough to admit their bodies, but 
they finally succeeded, and, stepping out in the open air, 
found themselves at the bottom of a deep, wooded ravine. 

“ Gee, this smells good ! ” said Dick, filling his lungs with 
fresh, pure air. 

“ Do you know where we are, boys } ” asked Mr. Kingston, 
as he looked around. 

“Yes, sir,” replied Thad, promptly, “we are in that deep 
ravine at the south end of our pasture.” 

“ Do you know, boys, I have had an idea for some time 
that the passage opened out in this ravine,” remarked Mr. 
Kingston. 

“ I never thought of such a thing,” replied Thad. 

“ What will we do, go back the way we came, or go 
down around the ravine } ” inquired Dick. 

“ Go back the way we came, of course. We want to carry 
home some relics,” replied his father. 

“And maybe we can find some more money in the big 
cave,” said Thad. 

But although they spent some time picking around the 
cave, they found nothing. The floor was solid rock. 


THE CAVE, 


253 


covered with an inch or two of earth, so it was impossible 
to dig. 

Gathering up the rifle barrels and mugs, the trio started 
home, promising to return and explore it again at some future 
time. 

‘‘ I most know a lot of robbers lived in there once,” said 
Dick, as they drove along in the shadow of the bluff. 

What makes you think so ” asked his father. 

Oh, because nobody would be fool enough to live in such 
a dark, dismal, clammy hole unless they had to, to hide away 
from honest folks.” 

I rather think you are right, Dick, in its being a rendez- 
vous for thieves sometime in the past. Years ago, the North- 
west was infested with outlaws and horse thieves, and it looks 
as though these caves had been one of their dens, but we will 
probably never know the true history of it.” 

Unless we find that seventh man,” said Dick. 

‘‘He is probably dead long ago.” 

“ How do you account for the skeleton and money, and the 
opening being sealed up in the outside cave } ” asked Thad. 

“ It is all a matter of guesswork. At first, I thought the 
opening had been closed for the purpose of concealing the 
tomb of some person, and also the box of gold. But since 
discovering a back door, I am inclined to the belief that this 
end was fastened up to lessen the chance of others discover- 
ing the cave, and whoever did it just used the back entrance 
in that dark ravine. But for the merest accident, the cave 
would have remained undiscovered for ages, as a landslide had 
covered the back entrance. Probably the ones that hid the 
gold were killed to a man, and the secret perished with 
them.” 

“ From there being mugs on the table, and no dishes, it 


254 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


looks as if whoever lived there paid more attention to drink- 
ing than they did to eating,” remarked Thad. 

“ It looks that way. Perhaps some gang used it as a 
place of carousal, to lay plans for robbery, and celebrate a 
successful raid.” 

“ I would give something to know the true history of it,” 
said Thad. 

‘‘So would I,” replied Mr. Kingston, “but the chances are 
we never will. However, we cannot tell. A clue may be 
found some day that will unravel the whole mystery.” 


CHAPTER XVL 


OVER DECOYS WITH BREECH-LOADERS. 

A LITTLE over a year has passed since Thad and Dick 
so unexpectedly discovered the cave in the bluff. 
Glorious October, the month to delight the heart of every 
sportsman, is at hand with its ripened, luscious nuts, and 
banks of crimson leaves. 

Whistling wings again make music for the hunter’s ear, as 
the myriads of wild fowl pass down the broad Mississippi on 
their flight to the sunny South. 

Once more the rice pond reechoes with the circling 
pinions of hungry ducks and geese, as the softened shades 
of evening dim the light of day, and the splashing wild fowl 
eagerly seek the luscious rice. 

After much corresponding, and many tests of their shoot- 
ing qualities, Mr. Kingston finally purchased three breech- 
loaders late in August, and Thad and Dick were happy. 

The first thing they did with the new guns was, as Thad 
said, to make the prairie-chickens “ sick,” and when the blue- 
wing teal came down in September, from the way they were 
kept dodging shot, the bewildered birds must have thought an 
army of shooters was investing the rice lakes. 

Now the larger ducks were arriving in augmenting numbers, 
and the watchful hunters prepared for their reception. 

Thad and Dick were sitting under the trees, looking out 


255 


256 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


over the Mississippi to catch a glimpse of any wild fowl that 
might be passing. 

“ We must get out at daylight in the morning, and have a 
duck picnic on the foot of the island,” remarked Dick. 

“ A duck picnic first, and a pick ducknic afterwards,” 
replied Thad. 

Oh, but some folks are bright. Bruno, you should be 
thankful you don’t understand English. You don’t know 
what you have escaped.” 

Bruno turned his head and looked at Dick a moment out 
of his big, honest eyes, and then solemnly resumed his occu- 
pation of gazing out over the river. 

There goes a nice bunch of bluebills down the river,” 
said Thad, pointing low over the water. 

‘‘ And there goes another bunch, way back over the 
timber. We will try and get an introduction to them in 
the morning,” said Dick. 

“ Come, boys, roll out. It is after four o’clock,” called 
Mr. Kingston up the stairway next morning. 

Thad was awake instantly. ‘‘Dick,” he cried, shaking 
that drowsy individual by the shoulder, “it’s after four 
o’clock. Get up.” 

“ What if it is } ” growled Dick, crossly. “ Breakfast won’t 
be ready till seven. What the deuce do you mean, waking a 
fellow up at four o’clock ? ” And that sleepy duck hunter 
turned over and drowsed off again. 

“Well, you’re a bright duck hunter!” muttered Thad, in 
disgust, gazing down at his somnolent brother. 

“ Dick, get up I We are going after ducks at daylight, — 
do you hear > Ducks, — ducks. Quack, quacks” and Thad 
shook him vigorously. 

“ Gee whizz, that’s so I Why didn’t you tell a fellow ? ” 


OVER DECOYS WITH BREECH-LOADERS. 2 $7 

said Dick, now wide awake, springing out of bed and hurrying 
on his clothes. 

“You are the biggest sleepyhead I ever saw. I would 
like to see you try to wake up alone, at four,” remarked 
Thad, as they were dressing. 

“ That is easy. I would arrange it so as to wake up at four 
o’clock the second morning,” replied Dick, as he started 
down-stairs. 

“Gee, but that’s good,” he remarked, a few minutesTater, 
as he quaffed a cup of hot, delicious coffee, and rapidly cut 
crescents in a slice of home-made bread and butter. 

“That is the beverage to keep off malaria, in the early 
morning. Some hunters take whiskey, but I prefer hot 
coffee,” said Mr. Kingston, as he finished his lunch. 

The faintest tinge of gray brightened the eastern sky, as 
they dropped the decoys about thirty yards from the point. 

Mr. Kingston arranged them in two bunches, scattering a 
few between to give the appearance of a continuous flock. 

Decoys placed this way on an island in the river show up 
much better, and birds coming up or down can see them past 
the shore line. 

“Now each man bring his stool, and we are ready,” said 
Mr. Kingston, as he ran the boat a few yards above the blind 
in some willows. 

“Ah, but this is glorious,” he remarked, filling his lungs 
with the invigorating morning air, as he seated himself in the 
willows, and gazed at the brightening east. 

A low whistle from Thad, and, as he turned his head, the 
report of the latter’s gun woke the echoes on the old Missis- 
sippi, and Kingston heard a splash and saw a fleeing form 
beyond the decoys going down the river just above the 
water. 


258 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS, 


“They came from the north. I didn’t see them until they 
were at the outer edge of the decoys, and I only had time to 
get in one shot,” explained Thad, as he slipped in another 
shell. 

“ Lie still, Bruno. It is too far out for you. Too much 
swimming against the current,” said Mr. Kingston, as Thad 
started for the boat. 

He had just picked up the duck, when he heard a soft 
whistle from his father, and without looking around he lay 
flat in the boat. 

An instant later he heard a double report, followed by 
another, and then two splashes in the water. Then he 
straightened up and saw two more bluebills drifting away. 

“ You stay out in the boat, and we will fill it for you,” said 
Dick, as Thad came in the blind. 

“ I thought of that, but concluded I would be bald-headed 
before the boat was full,” replied Thad. 

“ There is a flock crossing below, and here comes another 
up the river, but I guess they are too high to see our 
decoys,” said Mr. Kingston. 

The flock coming up were high in the air and off to one 
side, but they seemed socially inclined, for, when nearly 
opposite, they caught sight of the decoys and, pointing their 
heads toward the water, came almost straight down with a 
graceful twisting of the body, accompanied with a rushing 
roar of the wings that is much better appreciated when seen 
and heard. 

When near the water they again swept up with a graceful 
curve, took a wide circle, and headed for the point. 

“ Wait until they raise their wings to alight, then each take 
a duck on his side,” whispered Mr. Kingston. 

The three guns cracked almost as one, and three bluebills 


OVE/? DECOYS WITH BREECH-LOADERS. 


259 


splashed in the water, and at the second round two more 
dropped. 

' “ I thought I killed mine, — who missed } ” asked Mr. Kings- 
ton, as he came into the blind after picking up the ducks. 

“ My duck dropped,” said Dick. 

‘‘ I cannot tell a lie. I failed to do it with my little gun,” 
said Thad.’ 

“ Here comes one lone bluebill up the river right at us,” 
remarked Dick. 

The duck was fully fifty yards high, and, as he came over 
the decoys, paid no attention to them. *‘That fellow isn’t 
going to stop, and I am going to try him a whirl,” said Kings- 
ton, as the bluebill came over them, a little to the left. 

As the gun cracked, the handsome little bird checked his 
flight as suddenly as though shivered by a blast of lightning. 

His form doubled up in a black and white ball, and for an 
instant he remained almost stationary in the air. Then down 
he plunged, head first, striking the water with terrific force 
by reason of the great height from which he had fallen. 

“ It does me good to double up one of those little chaps 
when he is high up, they fall so hard,” remarked Mr. Kings- 
ton, inserting a fresh shell. 

Then for a short time everything was quiet, and no ducks 
came near. 

“Boys, just look at that sunrise! It certainly is more 
beautiful than any picture ever painted by a mortal.” 

The eastern sky was a blaze of gold and crimson. 

From the horizon half-way to the zenith, the sky was 
draped with light, airy clouds, through which the sun, that 
Master Painter, had traced the most delicate tints and effects. 

Here was a bit of thin, gauzy cloud, that the sun had 
transformed into a crimson veil. Another showed the short. 


26 o 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


choppy waves of the Mississippi, turned to blood. A narrow 
black cigar-shaped cloud was now dressed in purple. Others 
were a rich orange. Some a delicate carmine, while here 
and there the clouds were rent in twain, through which shone 
benignly the soft, rich azure of heaven, like an Immortal eye 
smiling down upon the world. 

Mr. Kingston gazed upon this wonderful picture in an 
ecstasy of delight. - He was entranced with the beauty of 
the scene. 

Old hunter that he was, sport was for the moment forgotten. 

The sharp report of a gun at his elbow recalled his wits, as 
a bluebill struck the point in the edge of the water, throwing 
spray all over him. 

“ Hello, what does this mean V he asked, wiping the drops 
of water from his face. 

Dick was just putting in a fresh shell, and looking inno- 
cent. 

“Was that you, Dick, trying to drown mei ” 

“I — yes, sir, I guess so. I happened to look down the 
river just as that fellow came over the decoys a few feet 
above the water. He kept coming, so I gave it to him in the 
neck,” replied Dick. 

“You must excuse me, boys, but when I see such a sun- 
rise, I feel like taking off my hat to the Invisible Artist.” 

“ Here comes an immense flock up the river. If they only 
just come this way we will give them something to remem- 
ber us by,” said Thad. 

“ They are coming, all right. Gee, but there is an ocean 
of them,” said Dick, a moment later, as the big flock swung 
toward the point. 

It is a beautiful and nerve-thrilling sight, to watch a great 
body of wild fowl dashing straight toward you. Such a flash- 



RED -WINGED RLACKRIRDS. 





OVER DECOYS WITH BREECH-LOADERS. 26 1 

ing, dashing panorama of colours as they present, gliding 
through the air on the wings of the wind. 

“Get ready, boys,” warned Mr. Kingston, and an instant 
later there was a mighty rush of wings as the cloud of blue- 
bills swept over the decoys. 

“ Give it to them, now.” And such a cracking and bang- 
ing as came from the willows ! 

“ Quick, Thad ; there is one trying to climb up in the air 
and can’t,” cried Dick, breaking open his gun. 

A second later, a charge from Thad’s gun caught the 
climbing bluebill amidships, and he withered in the air and 
splashed back in the water. 

Dick turned and saw his father twisting his body around 
and looking straight up in the air, trying to point his gun 
at something. 

Dick looked up in time to see a bluebill quiver in the air a 
moment, and then drop to the ground straight as a plumb- 
line. 

“There are three winged, — kill them, quick,” said Thad, 
sending a charge across the water into one of the swimming 
ducks. 

Kingston turned in time to catch another, and Dick para- 
lysed the third. 

“ How many did we get ? ” asked Thad, looking out over the 
water as the smoke of battle cleared away. 

“I can count eleven,” replied his father, starting for the 
boat. 

“Gee, we got a mess of them that trip,” remarked Dick, 
as Mr. Kingston came into the blind, after gathering the 
birds. 

“ Yes, we don’t get a shot at such flocks every minute,” 
replied his father. 


262 


THE BOY DUCK HUNTERS. 


“ Breech-loaders are the stuff over decoys, ain’t they, 
Thad ? ” said Dick, gleefully, patting his gun affectionately. 

“ I should say they were. It is more fun than drowning 
out skunks,” replied Thad. 

“ There is a mallard sailing around the river below us, but 
they are pretty cautious,” said Mr. Kingston. 

The mallard took a circle that brought him near the 
decoys. 

“ If he does that again, and comes a little closer, he may 
hear of something to his advantage,” remarked Thad. 

Another circle, and the mallard was just outside of the 
decoys. 

I believe I can tickle that fellow from here,” said Thad, 
throwing up his gun. 

At the report, they heard the shot crash into the duck, and 
saw him throw his head over his back and come down with 
a great splash. 

“ A good shot, Thad,” remarked his father, as the former 
started after his duck. 

The sun was now well up, and there came another lull in 
the shooting. 

Then for twenty minutes the hunters sat in the willows 
on the point waiting for the wild fowl, and they chatted in low 
tones of their hits and misses, thoroughly enjoying the crisp, 
cool, autumn air. 

The dense woods along the Mississippi were draped with 
the brilliant leaves of autumn, while, high up the bluffs, tier 
upon tier of crimson, green, and yellow foliage gave the 
appearance of a vast bank of mosaics. 

Between the dazzling sheen of colours, the grand old 
‘'Father of Waters” wound its peaceful way like a broad 
band of silver. 


OVER DECOYS WITH BREECH-LOADERS. 263 

And now the ducks began to fly again, and for an hour 
the hunters were kept busy. At eight o’clock their bag was 
twenty-six, and they began to think of returning home, when 
a peculiar whistling of wings greeted their ears in the quiet 
morning air. 

“ What is that ? ” queried Thad, in a low tone. 

‘‘Goldeneyes. Keep quiet,” replied his father. 

The whistling ceased, and then began again. 

“ They are coming down from the north, high up,” whis- 
pered Kingston. 

The willows were so dense on the point at their back that 
they could neither see the ducks, nor the ducks see them. 
An occasional whistle was all they had to locate the direction 
of the coming wild fowl. 

“ They’re an awful while coming,” whispered Dick. 

Then the hunters heard the soft rustling and swishing of 
wings, and, looking to the west, saw a dozen goldeneyes, 
or “whistlers,” as they are termed, coming straight for the 
decoys. 

A few seconds later, the handsome ducks discovered they 
were in the wrong pew, as the three guns belched out death 
and destruction, and they dashed off down the river minus 
four of their comrades. 

“ Here is where they get their name,” observed Mr. Kings- 
ton, opening the eye of one of the ducks Dick brought in, 
and showing a golden ring around the iris. 

“ Do they eat as good as they look ? ” asked Dick. 

“ I am sorry to say not. They are among the poorest of 
the duck family. But, of course, when a fellow is shooting 
ducks, he isn’t thinking much about their edible qualities 
until he gets home. Then again, especially in places like 
this, he will make a quick snap shot, when he doesn’t know 


264 the boy duck hunters. 

until afterward whether he is shooting at a canvasback or a 
mud-hen,” replied Mr. Kingston. 

“ I don’t think you will ever fool this child on that score. 
I could tell a mud-hen four miles away, in the dark,” 
remarked Dick, confidently. 

A few moments later, as they sat motionless, a duck 
flashed by the point on Dick’s side, going south. Dick 
promptly threw up his gun and doubled the fleeing fowl in 
the air, and it splashed among the decoys. 

It was all done in five seconds, and no one knew what 
kind of a duck it was. Bet you a dozen buckwheat 
cakes against a slice of ham, it’s a redhead,” called Dick, as 
Thad started after the game. 

“ Take it ! ” he cried. 

“ Who wins ? ” asked Dick, as Thad rowed quietly in the 
willows. * 

“You will be shy on buckwheat cakes, this morning, my 
son. It’s a measly old mud-hen,” replied Thad. 

“ It is, like fun,” said Dick, incredulously. 

Thad tossed the bird at Dick’s feet. One glance at the 
dull-coloured plumage, and the white-pointed bill, told Dick 
that Thad was right. 

“I’m sorry to kill such an ornery thing, but it had no busi- 
ness to get in the way.” 

“What are you going to do for buckwheat cakes this 
morning ” said Thad. 

“ I suppose I’ll have to be satisfied with a few. I was 
intending to eat thirty-five, but I’ll worry along on twenty- 
three, for once,” replied Dick, with a sigh. 

“ And, by the way, isn’t it about time to go after 
them.^* I feel a little hungry myself,” remarked Mr. 
Kingston. 


OV£J? DECOYS WITH BREECH-LOADERS. 265 

‘‘ I suppose SO ; although my share is hardly worth going 
after,” said Dick. 

And now, as they take up the decoys and prepare to return 
home, we will take a regretful leave of the Kingston boys. 
We hope to meet them again- in the near future, but if Fate 
will it otherwise, we may be sure they will grow to manhood, 
strong, vigorous, and hearty, from their free, health-giving, 
outdoor country life. 


THE END. 






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